


The Sword and the Song

by The_Lady_Crane



Category: Hoshi no Kaabii | Kirby: Right Back at Ya!, Super Smash Brothers
Genre: Age Difference, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Flirting, Crack Relationships, Daddy Issues, Fairy Tale Elements, Fantasy, Fish out of Water, Fluff, Humor, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Little Mermaid Elements, M/M, Male Slash, Melodrama, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Muteness, Not Canon Compliant, Nudity, Shounen-ai, Slow Romance, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-02 07:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12722052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lady_Crane/pseuds/The_Lady_Crane
Summary: The Long of It: When Prince Marth becomes a literal fish out of water, he finds himself enjoying life on land more than he'd thought. But with Robin in hot water and Ike breathing down his neck, how long can he continue to run from his problems? Torn between two worlds, Marth will have to make a decision before fate makes the choice for him.The Short of It: A prince, a knight, and all the makings of a bad adaptation of The Little Mermaid.





	1. Beneath the Waves

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-post of my story from FFNet, albeit with a few rewrites. I finally know where I want the story to go. It's a good thing, too; this thing has been in the making for almost a decade. I love Meta Knight and Marth as a couple, and I've loved The Little Mermaid (both the fairy tale and all of its adaptations) since I was three years old. Hopefully someone out there will enjoy reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Oh, and this obviously takes a lot of settings and characters from the Kirby anime. I don't apologize for it; I freaking love that show!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marth becomes infatuated, as young princes in fairy tales do.

The morning dawned fair and bright. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the pale rays of sunlight shimmered on the surface of the sea. However, far beneath the sparkling waves, very little sunlight shone on the seafloor. Flowing shadows created by the movement of the surface formed and reformed like clouds, while submarine flora contributed to a scene of constant motion. A dense grove of kelp reached for every ray of sunshine it could, while brightly-colored coral formed the rim of a sheer drop-off.

This cliff led several hundred feet below the kelp beds. As the water got deeper, so did the shadows, until all one could see was the faint gray of the rocky bottom. The slope that led up from the dull and seemingly barren landscape of the seafloor curved in a way that encircled the area entirely. The cliff formed a sort of bowl with steep sides, and it was within this bowl that the palace of the Mer nation of Altea stood.

The palace itself was as bright and beautiful as the area around it was dull. Mother-of-pearl shimmered on its walls, glistening in the light of hundreds of blue and pink luminescent jellyfish that bobbed like lanterns in the current. The palace's towers and walls were broken by many windows that remained open at all times, so that fish could swim in and out of them as they pleased.

As the sun rose above the horizon, its rays began to light up the water around the palace. Although it wouldn’t make a significant difference until midday, the water around the palace was beginning to brighten. It shone dimly into one of the windows, a pale blue light that fell across the sleeping figure of a merman.

His form was rather slender. Some of the others would call him "Prince Mermaid" just to get a rise out of him. However, Prince Marth was far from bullied. Most people respected him, though he would not be the one to inherit the kingdom. That duty would fall to his older sister, Princess Elice.

The slight change in atmosphere was enough to alert the prince to morning’s arrival, and he began to stir. Opening his cerulean eyes, he yawned and sat up on his woven seaweed mat. A few fish swam into his room, circling lazily alongside the rounded walls before darting back out of the window again.

Marth rose from his sleeping mat and went to the window, putting on his golden circlet as he swam – the only kind of apparel he ever wore on a day-to-day basis. Outside, people were already swimming past the palace. Some had large baskets made of seaweed, and many were out hunting for fish. Marth sighed as he watched them. It reminded him of how much he hated the taste of fish lately…

He was startled out of his reverie by his sister. "Good morning," she chirped, popping in through the window and causing him to fall back a little.

"Oh! Um, good morning, Elice," he said, readjusting his tiara.

"Hm…" she looked at him for a minute before shrugging. "You've just gotten up, haven't you? Father would not be pleased to hear this…"

"Well, does he really have to know?" Marth said in annoyance. "I’m eighteen now. Must he monitor everything about me?"

"You know that father prefers us to be early risers and diligent workers," she said. "In fact, he sent me to get you. He has a job for you."

Marth sighed again as he followed his sister out the window and towards their father's throne room. He loved the Mer King like any son would love a father, but he tired of his incessant pushing. He was always forcing Marth to do things that he thought would establish his masculinity. When Marth had turned seven, the king had started dragging him out on hunting expeditions. When he was ten, he had been tasked with killing a marlin. At sixteen, he was expected to take down a shark. It never ended.

When they reached the throne room, the king seemed to be in a bad mood. He sat with the tip of his tailfin twitching back and forth, rustling the flowing blue cloth around his shoulders with the current he created. "You summoned me, Father?" Marth bowed before him, waiting for the lecture that seemed imminent.

"Marth, I want you to do something very important," the king said. "On the land, not far from the shore, there is a town of land-dwellers."

"Yes…" Marth nodded vaguely.

"Before, we paid little attention to them. They seemed to mind their own business. However, they have recently begun to fish in our waters."

"Father, many villagers fish from this sea," Marth said. "Why do we have to worry about them now?"

"Because they are doing it on a massive scale!" the king slammed his fist on the arm of his polished coral throne, his gold arm bands clanking loudly. "A large dock has been built. They are sending ships to gather huge nets of our fish, and I want it stopped! I want you to go and see if there is a way to sabotage them. You are eighteen now, so you should be old enough to handle a simple mission like this. Go now, spy on them, see what their weaknesses are… then gather a contingent of warriors and strike."

Marth sighed. "Yes, Father…" he nodded and swam away, sharing a glance with his sister. "Good luck," she mouthed to him, and he nodded to her as he left the palace.

At first, Marth swam with a heavy heart. He hated it when his father tried to shape him into something he wasn't. In his opinion, sabotaging a couple of ships was a stupid move. He didn't want to do it, but he had no choice in the matter. However, as he neared the surface, he began to forget all about his father. It had been some time since he'd been up there, and he could almost feel the wind on his face.

Finally, he broke the surface, and for a long while he floated on the waves and enjoyed the breeze. The sun's rays warmed him, and he felt revitalized by the combination of sunlight and cool air. He had almost forgotten what air felt like.

Spotting the shore in the distance, he swam towards it at a leisurely pace. He was in no hurry to carry out his father's orders, and was even less inclined to leave this place so soon. As he neared the shore, he decided that he would stay for a long while… and then he stopped suddenly.

Walking along the sand was something he’d never seen before. Marth couldn't quite decide if it was a person or an animal. It looked nothing like the cappies that often visited the shore, but it wore a cape wrapped securely around it. As he drifted closer, Marth could see the silver gleam of metal in the sunlight. Was it a mask of some kind, or its natural face? Curious, Marth swam even closer.

Suddenly the puffball – for lack of a better word – turned towards him. Round, yellow eyes widened as they spotted him, and Marth suddenly felt very vulnerable. Thinking quickly, he dove deep and hid in a thicket of weeds. He had done so just in time. He soon saw the outline of the round thing hovering above the water. Marth could discern the shapes of two large wings like fins protruding from either side of its shadow. The shape circled a few times, and then disappeared.

Marth waited a long time before he came back to the surface. Looking around warily, he swam to the shore and pulled himself onto a rock. As he began to relax, he suddenly picked up the sound of voices. Back into the water he went, sighing in annoyance, and peered at the shore from behind the rocks. Near the road that led to the beach, he saw the round thing again.

He couldn't hear what the thing was saying, but he heard the sound of its voice. Even at this distance, his sensitive ears could detect a low tone that sent a pleasantly warm feeling from his ears all the way down to the tip of his tail. Apparently, it was male. He was talking to three other people. Marth recognized two of them as children who often swam here. The third was the pink puffball that he usually saw with them. The two cappy children were talking excitedly, and Marth swam just a bit closer to hear what they were discussing.

"… villagers have seen creatures like that!" the boy was saying. "In fact, Kawasaki came here not long ago to fish, and he swore that he saw two of them!"

"It could be another monster," the girl said gravely. "What if King Dedede summoned it?"

"It didn't seem like a demon…" the caped one said, and Marth strained to hear him better. He liked the sound of his voice. "Besides, aren't there legends of fish-like people who live in the sea?"

"Yeah, but you can't believe…” the girl began, but was interrupted by the boy.

"Wow, do you really think that's what you saw?" he asked in awe. "I heard that they're called Merfolk. Did you really see one of them?"

"Perhaps… I just wondered if any of the others had seen them. My main interest in informing you was to warn you, should it turn out to be dangerous."

Marth realized that they were talking about him. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad news. Beside the two children, the pink one glanced in Marth's direction and smiled. "Poyo!" he said, waving. Marth smiled and waved back, knowing that the pink one couldn’t speak, but dove beneath the water when the other three looked his way.

"I suppose I should leave…" Marth said to himself, and swam deeper. Reluctantly, he turned towards his home and followed the path that was marked with piles of coral and shells. He really hadn't wanted to go. He loved being on the surface. Besides, that round thing had piqued his interest. He wanted to know more about him. Perhaps he was related to that pink puffball?

When he returned to the palace, he gave a brief report to his father that further observation of the fishermen would be required. Though the king had been pleased, Marth wasn't concerned with that. He swam back to his room and began to daydream as he often did.

Sound was important to the merfolk. In the murky water of the seafloor, sight wasn’t the best sense to rely on. The merfolk had developed keen hearing that could detect the slightest sounds in the water, and their culture placed great importance on music and other auditory stimulus to communicate information. Life was a song to them. Some even said that the quality of a person’s soul could be heard in the voice, and Marth was now more a believer than ever.

The swordsman’s voice had done something to Marth’s heart. The low, deep, sonorous tones spoke to him on a frequency previously untapped. The prince closed his eyes, trying to recall that voice and the feeling it incited in him. When his sister came into the room, she was completely ignored. "Well, that's a fine hello!" she said, snapping him out of his ruminations.

"Oh, Elice… Sorry…" Marth sat up on the rock that he used as a chair. "What is it?"

"I was just wondering the real reason why you want to go back there," she said. "Surely a simple sabotage mission can't take that much of your time. All you really have to do is whip up a quick storm.”

"Well… You see, I saw something odd today…" he began to tell her all that had happened, and when he was done she seemed troubled.

"Oh, Marth…" she sighed. "You should know better than to get interested in a land-dweller. Don't you remember the story of the mermaid who gave up everything to be with that prince? What happened to her?"

"First of all, I can’t believe you would bring that up," he countered, crossing his arms. "You know that it was just a story made up to scare us. Second, she chose to give everything up to become human. I wouldn’t do anything like that." He turned from her to look out the window. "Besides, he was so… Well, it was just a feeling I got from him, but…"

"Let me guess. You like him."

"I don’t know." Marth huffed. Rumors had abounded for years about his sexual orientation, but he had never been inclined to seek that kind of companionship from anyone. Besides, the puffball, though apparently male, probably wasn’t anything like him in terms of sexual function. Why would he bother cultivating a crush on something like that? “He wears a sword. I’ve never seen a land-dweller who could wield one before. I bet there is a lot we could learn from each other.”

"No good will come of it," she said, shaking her head. "For your own sake, Marth, try to avoid seeing him again."

"…Very well. I'll try to forget about him," Marth said, and Elice left him to his thoughts.

><><>< 

That had been a lost cause. Soon, Marth was going to the surface nearly every day. Cornelius couldn’t have been more pleased, glad to see that his son was finally applying himself to something. The sabotage of the fishing ships was far from Marth’s mind, though. Every day, he would check and see if the caped one was there.

Over time, he learned that Meta Knight was his name, and that he was prone to visiting the shore more often after dark. This was a better time to go to the surface, anyway, and Marth’s dedication to his late-night missions only pleased his father more. He often fantasized about revealing himself to the knight, sharing as much about himself as he had learned about Meta Knight.

On this particular night, Marth was hiding beneath the wharf as Meta Knight and his two companions walked along the wooden planks above. “When do you think this plan is going to blow up?” one of the others was saying.

“Who can tell? I’m inclined to believe that His Majesty will grow tired of this before he can do any real harm.” Marth felt a shiver of pleasure race through him when Meta Knight spoke.

“Frozen fish pops, though… Who would buy such a thing?”

“He’s trying to sell them up north, to the pengi people.”

Marth frowned. So that was the cause of all the fishing.

“I guess that’s going over as well as a lead balloon.”

“You would guess correctly,” Meta Knight’s heavy step paused directly over Marth’s hiding spot. A sudden notion seized the prince, and he plucked a scale from his tail. Reaching up to work it through the grooves of the walkway, he succeeded in pushing it onto the wharf.

On top of the walkway, Meta Knight heard a small clink against his sabaton. He looked down; something was gleaming in the moonlight. He picked it up and examined it, finding what looked to be a scale that shimmered a deep blue color. Under the moon, it was shot through with tiny teal sparkles.

“What’s that?” Blade Knight asked, leaning closer to get a better look.

“I’m not sure,” Meta Knight said. “I nearly stepped on it.”

“It’s a scale of some kind,” Sword Knight said.

“I wonder what fish it comes from?” Blade wondered.

Meta Knight tucked it into his cape. “We should go,” he said. He took one last glance at the sea before turning to follow the path back up the beach. Sword and Blade followed. Under the wharf, Marth’s heart was beating a little faster. Even if the knight didn’t know it was a gift, Marth felt accomplished at having given it.

One day, he would be able to speak with the knight directly. He just had to find the right time to do it. Blushing, feeling as if the bubbles in his chest would send him into the sky, he dove and returned to the ocean floor. On the way, he stopped to toss a scale into the Fountain of Wishes. This was a giant clam shell made into a basin that was built over a hydrothermal vent. The bottom of the fountain, which was too hot for anyone to enter, glittered with the offered scales of merfolk who came here to make a wish. Marth took a moment to wish for a chance to meet his knight, and to spend time with him. Then he sped home, feeling like an idiot but also cherishing the ache of want and the hopefulness that fluttered in his heart.

It was, after all, his first infatuation; he felt he could allow himself his small moments of giddiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, erm... I'm not really good with long stories. I'm not good with plots in general. I tend to prefer one-shots, but this has been a labor of love. My husband has been an ongoing inspiration in this, and I'm so grateful I could just run in and kiss him right now! ... I think I'll do that!


	2. Rescued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Marth rescues Meta Knight and sparks a chain of events that quickly gets out of hand.

_When the ocean was calm, it was possible to see for many hundreds of yards. On a day like this, the sun’s light could be seen even at the bottom of the sea. It sparkled and shimmered downward, diffusing and turning into a hazy blue glow that bathed everything. Marth loved such sunny days. Though he had never seen the sun itself, he adored its brightness. He felt that it must be very generous, to share itself even with the merfolk of Altea. The little prince smiled as he stretched his arms out towards the dim blue light coming from above. A stray fish darted between his hands, and he laughed aloud, trying to catch it halfheartedly._

_“Marth!” His sister’s voice caught his attention. He swam back to her, joining her among the ever-shifting fringe of red and purple anemones that lined the garden floor. “Pay attention,” she said, smiling and tapping him lightly on the nose._

_“As I was saying,” their teacher cleared her throat, “you need to practice. Princess Elice, your power is emerging at a very impressive rate. Prince Marth, don’t you want to be like your sister?”_

_The child nodded, though he didn’t fully understand what the old woman was talking about._

_“Now, let’s have a few notes. See if you can make the water swirl around us.”_

_Elice’s voice rang soft and clear. Marth looked up at her, awed, as the few crystal notes became a brief song – laughing, bubbling, making him feel lighter. The water bore them up for a moment, and then faded with her voice. The instructor clapped her hands together, clearly pleased. “Very good!” she said, her green tail waving slightly. “Now, young prince, if you would try the same.”_

_Marth opened his mouth. A few high-pitched notes came out, but it did nothing to the water surrounding them. The bubbly feelings inspired by Elice’s song fled him, leaving his chest heavy and his shoulders drooping. He stopped singing. There didn’t seem to be any point in it._

_“You must practice,” the teacher said. “Practice makes perfect. And you want to be able to wield Falchion one day, don’t you?”_

_Marth glanced toward the center of the courtyard. A marble figure, tall and imposing, rose out of the surrounding coral. It was holding a sword pointed upward, towards the surface of the sea. Marth felt the weight of his ancestry on his shoulders as he looked at the sword. The statue depicted his ancestor, Anri, the hero and founder of the kingdom of Altea. His sword was now a royal treasure, and he knew that one day he would be expected to carry it. The child sighed, looking back at his sister. She smiled encouragingly._

_“When you learn to control your voice, you will be able to wield the sword,” their teacher said. “Just keep it up! Now, once more. Make the water swirl.”_

_Marth sighed again. He knew he couldn’t do it, but he obediently began to sing._

>>><<< 

The battle was not going well. Meta Knight dodged, countered, parried, but failed to land as many hits as the demon beast before him. This was a tough opponent. It always had been, and he hadn’t expected it to be any weaker even after all these years. If anything, it seemed more powerful than before; or perhaps he was losing his edge.

Sword and Blade were watching from the castle parapet. He could see them, even at this distance, though he had told them to protect Kirby and not to try to follow him. The monster’s claw barely scratched his mask, and he leapt back before readying another thrust of his sword. He was getting distracted. Trusting in his squires to carry out his orders, he sharpened his focus and slashed fiercely as he noticed an opening on the beast’s side.

Wolfwrath howled furiously, spewing flames in a semicircle that Meta Knight just barely escaped. Its inner fire was burning out, but it still had enough left to do some serious damage. The knight dodged another kick and then charged, Galaxia finding purchase in the unprotected skin of its belly.

He was gaining the upper hand, but then the creature turned tail and ran, charging straight for the cliff. What was it doing? Meta Knight followed, hoping for an opportunity to knock it over the edge. The sea churned angrily beneath a sheer drop. With the shore lying several hundred meters away, there would be no place for Wolfwrath to escape once it was in the water. A rip current would prevent it from swimming to safety, and with any luck it would be carried out to sea and drowned. Meta Knight held his sword aloft, ready to strike at the first opportunity.

A cornered beast was twice as dangerous, though, and Meta Knight knew it. He approached cautiously, eyeing the monster’s bared fangs. It seemed to have realized its mistake, and was eyeing Meta Knight murderously. Meta Knight feinted to the left, charged to the right, and attempted to stab its flank. Wolfwrath seemed to have been waiting for this, though, and it dashed away to safety – but not before lashing out at him.

For a breathless moment, Meta Knight teetered on the edge of the cliff. He tried to push himself forward – such an easy thing to do, taking one step – but found his leg had grown too heavy to move. He began to tip backwards. A dull ache in his forehead confirmed that he had been stung. As he fell into space, he managed to reach up and feel the jagged edge of the spine protruding from his mask. The damned thing had broken through the metal. Cursing his luck, cursing the demon beast and the foolish king who had summoned it, cursing Nightmare and cliffs and the sea and everything in general, Meta Knight plunged into the water just as the last bit of feeling left his body.

Despite the fiery breath and wickedly sharp claws, Wolfwrath’s most dangerous weapons were the spines on its back. Meta Knight knew that the toxin coursing through his body would render him completely incapable of movement. There was enough breath in his lungs now to last for a while – his species had incredible respiratory capacity – but he wouldn’t be able to swim upwards again. He was still fully conscious as the dim blue light began to fade around him, his heavy armor dragging him down into the depths.

Something flashed across his vision, but he was too caught up in thinking of a way out of this mess to notice. He couldn’t feel the hands gripping him, the arms encircling him, but he did realize that something was blocking his sight. Thinking that Sword or Blade had jumped in to save him, he felt his heart lighten as he was borne through the water and back to the surface.

What greeted him was not Sword or Blade, though. This was a face he had never seen before.

Pale, smooth, young-looking, this face resembled those of the Hylians to the west. He had never seen a Hylian with blue hair, though. Darkness was tugging at his vision now, but Meta Knight could just barely make out the person’s features. What stood out to him the most was a pair of blue eyes, dark like the night sky but sparkling brightly, though they were filled with concern.

“Please, hang on…”

Did that gentle voice belong to this creature? Meta Knight began to drift off as a melody filled his ears, soft and soothing. Even the waves seemed to calm down, offering less resistance as he was pulled towards the shore.

He blacked out just as the rocking motion stopped, and he was set on the sand. That worried face came once again into his view. It was the last thing he remembered seeing before he woke up hours later, surrounded by Sword, Blade, Kirby, Fumu, and Bun, in his own room again and with an incredible story to hear from his squires.

><><>< 

Marth’s gills were working hard when he returned to the palace. He had stayed just long enough to make sure Meta Knight was alright. Sword and Blade had taken Meta Knight up to the castle, though, and Marth was no longer able to watch him. Telling himself that the knight would be OK, he had gone back to Altea.

As he approached the palace gates, Marth began to feel like something was wrong. The posted guards were looking at him warily. He waved to them, but they did not return the greeting, only staring back in stony reticence. He pushed on through the gates, and immediately another guard swam up to him. “Your Highness, His Majesty has requested your presence…”

By the look on the guard’s face, this was not a happy occasion. Marth grew even more concerned when the guard escorted him to the throne room, as if he was under arrest. He wasn’t surprised to find his father in a terrible mood. He was sitting on his coral throne, scowling and holding his tail completely still. If his tail wasn’t lashing around, it usually meant he was beyond furious. At least the thrashing seemed to relieve some of his anger.

The guard announced Marth’s arrival, and then withdrew. Marth heard the other guards following, but his eyes were fixed on his father. The two were left alone together in silence, until Cornelius spoke slowly and with a dangerous edge to his voice. “What do you think you were doing up there?”

“What do you mean, Father?” Marth remained impassive, but his heart sank.

The king paused for a long time. He seemed to be thinking of the best way to say what he wanted to say. “Marth, I have been displeased with you lately,” he said finally. “You seem to have been taking your duty lightly. These past few months have been marked by almost complete inaction on your part. Those fishing ships are still up there. I was concerned that perhaps you were goofing off again, so I had you followed.”

Marth tried not to bite his lower lip. He was royally screwed now.

“My scouts have not had good news for me. They say you spend all your time watching the shore and following some land-dweller around.” Cornelius stroked his blue-gray moustache. “Now I’ve been informed that you actually rescued someone from drowning.”

“I just did what I thought was best,” Marth said.

“You were seen. That creature could have been awake, and now it may spread the word about our existence. They could start hunting for us soon.”

“I couldn’t just let him drown…”

“You would sacrifice your people’s safety for the sake of a worthless land-dweller?” Cornelius’ eyes flashed, even as his voice held a deceptively calm tone.

“Father…”

Cornelius rose from his throne. He swam over to Marth, who dared not pull away. He glared down at his son, his face shadowed with disgust. Then he raised his hand and struck him across the face. Marth fell back, his hand to his cheek. He was too stunned to react when Cornelius pulled Falchion from the harness on his waist.

“I see now that you are still a child at heart,” the king said. “I should never have entrusted Falchion to you. I will keep this sword until you prove that you are mature enough to wield it.”

Shame and anger burned Marth’s blood, and he looked up to match his father’s glare. “I can’t believe you would allow someone to die like that! What about common decency?”

Cornelius looked as if he would hit Marth again, and the prince backed down, lowering his gaze. “You have broken the law,” he said coldly. “For that, you will be punished.”

Marth did try to escape then. He drew away and tried to swim out of one of the windows, but Cornelius caught him by the arm. Holding his son’s wrist in a crushing grip, he pulled him to the back of the throne room. Marth tried to pull away, but Cornelius was too strong. Before he knew it, he was being forced into a small closet-like room at the base of one of the palace’s towers. An iron grate came down over the opening, sealing Marth inside as he pushed against it. “You can’t do this!” he shouted. “How long are you going to keep me here?!”

“As long as it takes for the message to sink in,” Cornelius said impassively. “You are not to associate with those land-dwelling creatures. You are not to disobey me. And you are NEVER to put yourself or anyone else in danger the way you did today!”

Marth gripped the bars as he watched his father go. A tapestry of woven seaweed descended, concealing the entrance to the tower prison, and Marth was plunged into darkness.


	3. The Boy From Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Robin makes a mistake, and Meta Knight brings a souvenir back from the beach.

“Your Highness?”

The whisper roused Marth from his stupor. He uncurled himself, looking around in the darkness. “Who’s there?” he asked.

“Down here,” a voice said, and Marth looked down at the tiny barred window at the base of the wall. He sank so he could look through it, and a pair of dark eyes met his.

“Robin!”

“The one and only,” the magician said. “Elice told me you were imprisoned. Is it true you saved a land-dweller?”

“Yes. And I’m not sorry for it. Nothing horrible is going to happen because of that!”

“Woah, I believe you!” Robin said. “Keep your voice down! I came to bust you out.”

Marth smiled softly, but shook his head. “Thank you, but don’t bother. Father would just throw me back in here again.”

“Not if he can’t find you.”

“He’s the king of the sea around here,” Marth argued. “Where could I go that he couldn’t reach me?”

A mischievous glint crossed Robin’s eyes. “Where, indeed? I wonder where I could hide you where your father, a merman, couldn’t go…”

The prince stared through the bars uncomprehendingly. Robin nodded encouragingly. “I’m not sure I follow you,” Marth finally admitted.

“I can turn you into a human,” Robin said.

Marth laughed. “Robin, be serious! You can’t really, can you?”

“Of course I can! I’ve been working on a spell. We all know how crazy you are about that knight…”

“I- I am not!” Marth blushed, but Robin ignored him.

“So I was working on a present for you. It’s a spell that will allow you to walk around on land, and it lasts until your head is underwater again. What do you say?”

“That’s amazing, if it would work,” Marth said. “But what good would that do? It would only make Father even angrier.”

“Yes, it would. But it would make him worry, too. Here’s the scenario: You stay up there for a couple of days, have some fun, meet your knight… Take a vacation, you know? Meanwhile, your father doesn’t know what became of you. He’s worried and scared, and angry. But when you come back, safe and sound, he’ll be so relieved he’ll forget all about that little incident a few days ago!”

The prince sighed. “If that were to work… Hm…” It wasn’t such a bad plan, he thought. “And you’re certain that this spell works?”

“Absolutely. I’ve never done it on a merman before, but it works on fish.”

“You’ve turned fish into humans?!” Marth was impressed.

“Er, well…” Robin ran a hand through his blonde hair. “I turned them into something. But don’t worry about that! The point is that they survived, and it succeeded.”

“Mm, I don’t know…”

“Do you really want to stay in here forever?”

Marth bit his lower lip nervously. “I suppose… Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Great! I’ve got a few more things to prepare, and then I’ll be back for you. OK?”

“OK…”

Robin swam off with a swish of his gold and black tail. Marth watched him go with some trepidation. He supposed he would just have to trust Robin on this. Besides, he could hardly pass up a chance to stick it to his father like this.

><><>< 

Word of Kirby’s triumph over Wolfwrath spread as quickly as the demon beast’s flames, but the little star warrior was oblivious to the excited conversations being held about him. He had been called a hero, told that he had saved Sir Meta Knight’s life, but that was just what anyone would do, he figured. After Meta Knight had gone over the cliff, and Kirby had taken up Galaxia, the rest just occurred naturally. He fought, he won, and he got to have a big dinner to celebrate. Life was good.

Even days after the fight, Kirby was in a good mood. He liked Sir Meta Knight, and had been angered to see him injured. Now that the knight was back on his feet, all was right with the world. Kirby sang happily to himself as he bounced along the path leading to the beach. It was a bright, sunny day, and the sea was calm. It was a perfect day to go looking for seashells.

As Kirby stepped onto the sand, though, he noticed something amiss. Something was lying on the shore. Kirby paused, curious. He’d never seen anything like this before. He came to stand beside it, but still couldn’t figure out what on Popstar it was. It was long and pale, with a fringe of what looked like blue hair at one end.

What to do? Kirby glanced up and down the beach, but found nothing else like it. He got the vague feeling that it was alive – it seemed to be moving slightly. He tapped it, lightly, finding the surface soft and impressionable. He nudged it harder, and then poked it in several places. It moved.

Squealing in fright, Kirby raced back up the shore and towards the road. This alien thing really was alive. His fear lasted only a moment, though, and he turned again once he was on the dirt path. The pale thing was still once more, and Kirby wondered if it was some kind of sea creature. Perhaps it was even edible.

Suddenly feeling much more amicable towards the thing, Kirby walked back to poke it some more. He was starting to get more of a response from it when someone called from the top of the ledge, “Kirby? What are you doing?”

The toddler looked up to see Meta Knight standing above the beach, and he waved cheerfully. Perhaps Meta Knight would know what this thing was, he thought. The knight spread his wings and glided down to where Kirby was, eyeing the pale creature warily and pushing Kirby away from it when he landed.

“Did you find it like this?” he asked, and Kirby nodded. Meta Knight stepped towards the being, assessing its condition briefly. It was breathing shallowly, and appeared to be human – perhaps from Hyrule. “Stay back,” Meta Knight told Kirby, more for the human’s safety than for Kirby’s. It was completely naked, and didn’t seem to be armed in any way. If it was injured, it would be poorly protected from a curious Kirby.

When he turned the person onto its back, he realized it was a young male. Blushing under his mask, he averted his gaze and looked around for something to use to cover it. “Kirby, go and get something to cover him with. A towel or blanket will do,” Meta Knight said.

“Poyo!” Kirby nodded, dashing off to find something suitable. In the meantime, Meta Knight unclasped his cape and threw it over the boy. Then he shook him gently, looking for some response.

A frown creased the boy’s features, and then blue eyes fluttered open. Meta Knight gave a small start. He recognized this person from somewhere. “Are you alright?” he asked, and the boy looked up at him, apparently startled.

He was perhaps seventeen or eighteen, though it was hard to tell whether his smooth face made him appear younger than he was. His teal-blue hair was stiff with dried sea water and sand, but a glimmer of gold caught Meta Knight’s eye. The knight reached out and brushed away some of the grit, revealing a golden circlet with a pale blue gem in the center, shaped like a teardrop. Was this boy some kind of royalty or nobility?

“Can you sit up?” Meta Knight asked, and the boy attempted to do so. He managed to push himself into a sitting position with Meta Knight’s hand steadying his back, and he smiled gratefully. Meta Knight’s heart skipped a beat. He had a dazzling smile. “So, you understand our language… I am Meta Knight,” the star warrior said. “You are in a place called Dreamland, in the southern hemisphere of the planet we call Popstar. Are you familiar with these terms?”

The boy shook his head, and Meta Knight frowned. “Do you come from Hyrule? The Hylians know this planet as Gaia.” Again, the boy shook his head. Meta Knight noticed that his ears were short and rounded at the ends, unlike the Hylians’ long pointed ears. “Are you from the Mushroom Kingdom, then?” Once again, a shake of the head was the answer.

“What is your name?” Meta Knight asked, starting another line of questioning, but the boy only shook his head again. “You do not understand?” Slim fingers came to rest at the base of the boy’s throat. “You cannot speak. I see… You understand our language, though. Can you write?”

The boy seemed to perk up, as if he hadn’t thought of that. He leaned over and wrote out a message in the sand, but Meta Knight’s consternation only deepened when he scanned the unintelligible markings. “I don’t recognize this script… Is this all you know?”

Dampened, the boy nodded. He gazed down at the cape covering his lap, and then looked up again, mouthing something. Meta Knight tried to read the boy’s lips, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. “Never mind that for now,” he said. “Are you able to stand?”

With Meta Knight holding one of his hands, the human stood on buckling legs. Suddenly at eye level with the boy’s waist, Meta Knight looked down at the sand as his cape slid from the boy’s slender hips. He had to admit, this strange creature was very beautiful. The blue-haired young man was able to remain standing for only a moment; then his legs seemed to give out, and he crumpled to the ground again, wincing in pain.

Meta Knight assessed the boy again for injuries, but found nothing. Figuring he must have been through some exhausting ordeal, Meta Knight helped him sit comfortably again. It seemed likely that he had been shipwrecked, or even thrown into the ocean by pirates.

Soon Kirby came running towards them, a blue blanket trailing behind him. “Poyo!” the child called, waving his find around. After wrapping the blanket securely around the boy’s waist, Meta Knight donned his cape once more. “What to do with you, though?” he mused as Kirby tentatively poked the boy on the knee.

The boy jolted, but then smiled at the puffball. Meta Knight watched as Kirby circled all around the newcomer, apparently looking him over, before sitting beside him and digging up a pile of sand. “Poyoyo!” As the sand pile got bigger, the human reached over to help out, looking as if he had no idea what to do. He tentatively added more wet sand, patting it down as Kirby was doing, both making an uneven glob that rose higher and higher until Kirby deemed it satisfactory. He took a small shell that had been unearthed, and placed it atop the misshapen sandcastle, waving his arms in victory.

“I suppose there’s nothing else to do but take you to the castle with me,” Meta Knight said, and the boy looked up, his brows furrowed. “Come.” The knight held out his hands, which the boy studied for a moment. He seemed reluctant to go. Sighing, Meta Knight stepped forward and dug one hand under the boy’s rear, bracing his back with the other hand. As he was lifted off of the ground, the boy gasped soundlessly and clung to Meta Knight’s pauldrons, his legs flailing.

“Poyo?” Kirby looked back at them, having started on another sandcastle.

Meta Knight said nothing as he opened his wings. Being much stronger than he looked, he had no problem holding onto the human; however, their difference in height posed a problem. Meta Knight was only half the boy’s height. He would have to fly. “Hold onto me,” he told the boy, whose arms wrapped around him tightly. When Meta Knight kicked off of the ground, flapping mightily to gain altitude, the boy inhaled sharply and buried his face in the side of Meta Knight’s head.

It was difficult to climb into the sky like this, but once they were airborne Meta Knight was able to spread his wings and let the wind carry them. He squinted against the sunlight, reminded of why he didn’t often go flying in the daytime. Adjusting his grip on the boy, trying not to jostle him too much, he circled around and headed for the castle, not looking forward to the landing. He would have one hell of a time explaining this to Dedede.

><><>< 

Marth had not been expecting Meta Knight to find him. In fact, he hadn’t expected to be found by anyone, planning to hide somewhere after coming onto the shore. The transformation had been excruciatingly painful, though, and he had lost consciousness while crawling towards a little cove in the rocks by the beach. Now he could see, growing ever smaller, the sea that had been his home all his life. He thought he glimpsed a blonde head poking out of the water, but it could have been a trick of the light upon the waves. He shook his head, closing his eyes against the blustering wind. If Robin had seen him being taken away, it would worry the mage; but there was nothing Marth could do about that now.

His life was turning into a whirlpool of sorts, and now here he was being carried away from his troubles by none other than the knight he had admired from afar for so long. He knew he would have to find a way back to the shore. In the meantime, though, the prince wasn’t too upset to spend time with the very person he had been wanting to meet.

They landed with something of a jolt. Marth gripped Meta Knight more tightly, gasping at the sudden halt. They now appeared to be in a courtyard of sorts, though it looked very different from the palace at the bottom of the sea. Marth couldn’t decide what to stare at first, and his eyes darted from the rough stone walls to the gushing fountain in the center of the courtyard to the short blades of grass waving in the air current – or rather, the breeze, he reminded himself.

They made their way inside, down a long corridor of smooth green-tinted stone. Marth reached out so that his fingers brushed the wall as they passed. Dry stone felt so different! Then they stopped in front of a wooden panel – Marth recognized this as a door, from various shipwrecks he had explored.

“Can you stand for a moment?” Meta Knight asked, and Marth was set on his feet. He pressed against the wall, his legs still shaky beneath him, until Meta Knight opened the door and reached out to catch Marth once again. The prince was carried into a new room and set on a slightly raised platform covered in woven mats.

Marth fingered the material, finding it much like the mats he slept on at home. This had to be Meta Knight’s bedroom. He looked around, finding it smaller than he was used to. It was tidy, though, and filled with so many new things that the prince didn’t know which to focus on first.

Meta Knight watched, amused, as the boy glanced from one thing to another. “Surely these sparse accommodations can’t impress you this much,” Meta Knight said. They seemed to be more than interesting, though; the boy pushed himself up, tottering a bit as he crossed over to the bookshelf.

Shelves were not unknown to Marth, but books were an entirely new concept. He reached out, tapping each colorful column and finding them to have different textures. He amused himself for a bit just by fingering the bindings, particularly enjoying the smooth ones, before one of them shifted a bit and he withdrew his hand, glancing at Meta Knight apologetically. He thought he might have broken something.

“Have you never seen a book before?” Meta Knight asked. “You write; you must have paper where you come from.”

“Book” and “paper” were words Marth had never heard before. He looked back at the “books”, shifting them around one by one until Meta Knight reached past him and took one off the shelf. Marth accepted it as it was given to him, and found that it opened like a clam shell. He flipped through the pages, fascinated, before realizing that there were markings on them.

He studied the symbols, but couldn’t derive any meaning from them. He surmised that this must be the land-dweller’s writing system, and it irritated him that he couldn’t read it. Huffing, he put the book back in its slot and stood up again.

Everything in the room was fascinating to him, and it took a long while to explore. Meta Knight stood patiently by, watching as the boy ran his hands along the chair, the table, the lamp, the television, and even the floors and walls. He was getting better at walking, it seemed, the soreness in his muscles apparently fading as they were used. Sand was soon scattered around the floor, but Meta Knight let it go for now. The boy was having fun looking at everything, and the way his face lit up when he discovered something else amused the knight. “What to do with you, though?”

It wasn’t long before Marth found the doorway to the bedroom, though he didn’t know what it was. The two steps leading up into it daunted him. Meta Knight walked over to assist, taking the boy’s hand and helping him lift his feet up onto the steps. Once he’d gotten through the doorway, Marth smiled in thanks and moved on to check out this new space.

This area was even smaller than the anteroom, containing only a bed and a curtained-off alcove. “This is my bed,” Meta Knight said. “My squires sleep in there. You will meet them soon.”

Marth backed away, losing his balance in the process and ending up once again in Meta Knight’s arms. He smiled sheepishly, but Meta Knight helped him to his feet again without reprimand. “You need to exercise your legs if you want them to get better,” he said, “but take it slowly.”

Just then, the door in the other room opened. “Stay here,” he told the boy, and went to greet Sword and Blade, who had come back from patrol.

“You’re back early, Sir,” Blade said. “We were just going to rest for a bit before getting some lunch. Do you want to join us?”

“No, not yet,” Meta Knight said. “There’s been a new development, actually…”

Before he could say any more, a loud thump sounded from the bedroom. Sword and Blade jerked to attention, hands gripping the hilts of their swords. “Sir, what was that?” Sword asked.

“The new development. At ease, and follow me.”

They did so with apprehension, wondering what on Popstar their master had brought home. As they stepped up into the bedroom, their jaws dropped in unison. They were at a loss for words. Looking over at them from Meta Knight’s bed was a very disheveled, very naked human. The sandy blanket that had been covering him was now on the floor, and he was looking at them with wide, alarmed eyes.

“Uh, congratulations, Sir… I guess…” Sword muttered, while Blade stammered over his response.

“Congratulations? What are you talking about?” Meta Knight glanced at them. He had expected surprised reactions, but not congratulations.

“Well, you know…” Sword said.

“I’m afraid I don’t. What’s there to congratulate me for?”

Blade finally found his tongue. “On, er, getting some, Sir.”

Meta Knight stood absolutely still. His left eye twitched.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for humans.”


	4. A Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Marth makes a discovery.

Once Meta Knight’s embarrassment had settled down, once Sword and Blade were properly mortified, and once he had finished chewing them out for jumping to conclusions (though they wanted to point out that there had been no other conclusion to be drawn), introductions were properly made. “These are my squires, Sword Knight and Blade Knight. Please forgive their first impressions…”

Marth smiled. He had no idea why Meta Knight had been yelling at them in the first place, but everything seemed to be better now. He stood, his legs still trembling, and bowed to the two, who tried to return the gesture with as much dignity as they could muster. It was very difficult with the boy standing there, nude and completely unashamed about it. Thankfully, Meta Knight alleviated the situation by coming forward and tying the blanket around the human again. “He doesn’t seem to know much about anything here,” Meta Knight said. “I’m not ruling out amnesia, but he may be an extraterrestrial.”

“And you just found him lying on the beach, eh?” Blade said. “I bet he’s a mermaid.”

“That would be ‘merman’, and that’s ridiculous,” Sword retorted. “Mermen don’t exist, and if they did they wouldn’t have legs. That’s what makes them mermen.”

“I was only joking,” Blade waved away the reprimand, taking the opportunity to properly look at the boy now that he was covered. “But he could be a Hylian.”

“Very unlikely,” Meta Knight said. “He writes, but with a script I’ve never seen before. It’s nothing like Hylian. His ears are also too short.”

“Maybe he’s from an unknown tribe from some island,” Sword offered. “Could be a species related to Hylians.”

“Maybe,” Meta Knight said. “In any case, I need to get him cleaned up. Unless you two would infer something from that, as well?”

“N- no, Sir!” both squires said, saluting as Meta Knight led Marth from the room. Once they heard the door close, they breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“He can’t really blame us, though, can he?” Blade said. “I mean, the guy was stark naked…”

“Let’s just go get a drink,” Sword sighed. “I need one, after that shock…”

Meanwhile, Meta Knight and Marth had arrived at the bathroom used by castle staff. Marth almost forgot his footing again as he stepped onto white tile. He looked up and around, taking in this new room. It was small, with three gleaming pipes and matching knobs poking out of the stone walls. Meta Knight reached for an empty bag hanging with its fellows on a hook, and held it out to Marth. “Put the blanket in here.” Marth did so, though he was still distracted by everything around him.

This bathroom was a fairly recent addition to Castle Dedede, having only been added at Meta Knight’s insistence. He wasn’t about to go down to the village just to bathe, after all, and he was getting tired of going to the minister’s chambers to ask for the favor of borrowing his bath. Two days of Sword and Blade intruding on the king’s private bathroom was enough to get them their way. The hastily-built addition wasn’t the most luxurious place, but it suited Meta Knight just fine.

The knight averted his gaze as Marth handed him the cloth bag, turning only once he heard the young man sit down. He was looking at Meta Knight as if to say, “What now?”

“You’ve never seen a shower before?” Meta Knight asked, incredulous. Even most Hylians knew how to operate modern showers, having their own versions of such things. If the boy was from a previously undiscovered society, it apparently lacked shower facilities. “That knob with the red tab turns on hot water,” Meta Knight said. “The one with the blue tab turns on the cold water. You’ll want to turn them both on. Once you’ve got the water going, scrub yourself with the soap there.”

Marth nodded and reached over to turn on the water. He almost fell off the stool when the water came splashing over his head. _“It’s like indoor rain!”_ he thought, looking up to see where the water was coming from but failing because of the droplets in his eyes. Experimentally, he pushed the blue knob and gasped as a cold sensation tingled down his spine. He turned it the other way, and then did the same with the red knob. He spent some time just adjusting the water, having fun playing with the temperature, until he realized Meta Knight was still waiting for him.

He took the bar of soap and began rubbing it on himself, satisfied when Meta Knight said, “Good. Clean everywhere, and then rinse off.”

After scrubbing himself in just about every place he could reach, he sat still so the suds could be washed away. Very nice, he thought. “OK, you can turn the water off now,” Meta Knight said.

Marth did so, but stood up a little too quickly. His legs were still weak, and he had never tried walking on a slippery surface like the shower floor. He fell, landing on Meta Knight’s hands as the breath was knocked out of his lungs. “Careful,” Meta Knight said, pushing Marth upright again as quickly as he could without sending the poor boy sliding across the floor again. His pulse had quickened more than he liked.

He reached for a towel to give to Marth, who took it and stared at it for a moment. “It’s for drying yourself off,” Meta Knight said. “Just pat yourself down wherever you need to, and then I’ll help secure it around your waist. That’s a shower.”

Marth nodded, beginning to dry himself as Meta Knight turned away. Then he spotted the open doorway to the tub. He padded over to it carefully, peeking inside and tapping on the doorframe to get Meta Knight’s attention. “Hm? That’s a tub. It’s where you take a bath.”

Marth took a step inside, turning to look at Meta Knight.

“You’ve just showered. There’s no need to take a bath.”

The prince sighed, looking back at the tub. He really wanted to try it. It was obvious that water was meant to fill the basin, as there was a spout and knobs similar to the ones on the showers. It would feel so good to submerge himself in the water again.

Another sigh, but this one came from Meta Knight. He pushed the door fully open and walked over to the tub, turning the knobs to fill it. Marth bounded towards it excitedly, almost slipping again as he leapt into the tub. He felt warmth spread upward as the water level rose, and once it was up to his chest Meta Knight turned off the tap. “Ten minutes,” the knight said, walking out of the room.

The shower had left him feeling nice and clean, but the bath was even better. He sank back, allowing the water to caress him. This was paradise. He’d never felt water this warm before, or this fresh. Salty sea water was harsh on skin, necessitating the formation of a slime coat. With his new smooth skin, he could feel the water flowing around him, making him shiver in pleasure.

His flight from the palace had been hastily planned, and his arrival on land poorly thought-out. When his head had broken the surface of the water under the starry night sky, he’d had no idea where he was going or what he would do once he was there. All he knew was that he had to get away, quickly. When his father found out…

Marth shuddered. He couldn’t think of that right now. He had to look ahead, though the future was shrouded. Nothing was certain anymore. Then again, nothing ever had been. He sighed, forcing such thoughts from his mind, lying back in the water and almost forgetting that he could no longer breathe when submerged.

When Sword came into the bathroom exactly ten minutes later, Marth was resting against the side of the tub, his eyes closed and a contented smile on his face. He had run the hot water again; the level was almost to the brim now and the room was full of steam. “Sir Meta Knight sent me to fetch you,” the warrior said.

Marth sighed, not wanting to leave this place. He extended his hand, motioning for Sword to join him. “Wh- what?” the squire almost took a step back. “You want me to pull you out?”

The prince shook his head, and patted the water.

“You want me to **_join_** you?”

Marth nodded. Why not?

Sword gulped, feeling as if his life was in danger now. What was this guy trying to pull? Of course, Sword had bathed with other men before (barracks life necessitated such things), but the two barely knew each other. He thought that perhaps the mute was trying to lure him close to drown him. That was a possibility. They didn’t really know anything about this person. What if he was another demon beast, summoned by Dedede? What if he was an assassin sent to do in their lord? He gripped the hilt of his sword, stepping closer. Innocent blue eyes looked at him curiously. He gulped again. His grip tightened. Closer now… Closer…

><><>< 

Meta Knight was not in a good mood. It wasn’t like his squires to disappoint him, but now it seemed as if they had wandered off. After Sword had failed to return with their guest, Blade had gone after him. Now all three were missing.

Perhaps this was an act of rebellion. He knew Sword and Blade were suspicious of the young man. They might have gone somewhere else, leaving Meta Knight to bring him back from the bath – something he really didn’t want to do. Seeing the boy nude like that, with absolutely no shame about it, was something he just couldn’t handle.

After half an hour, he decided he’d have to swallow his pride and retrieve the boy himself. Sword and Blade would face their punishment when they returned; he wasn’t about to go looking for them. He went into the bathroom, and he wasn’t surprised to find clouds of steam billowing around; the boy had run the hot water a few times. He was surprised to hear voices, though. Alarmed, he entered the tub area with his hand on his sword.

There were the two missing squires, sitting in the water and laughing about something. Their armor and clothing had been set aside, and they wore only their helmets. On the other end of the tub, the newcomer was popping bubbles. At some point one of them must have introduced soap into the mix.

“What are you doing?” Meta Knight asked. Sword and Blade balked, noticing him and reacting as if they’d been caught doing something wrong – which they had, in Meta Knight’s book. Loafing on the job was something he couldn’t tolerate. Marth looked up and smiled, a pile of fluffy foam on top of his head.

“He, uh, he wanted me to join him,” Sword said, edging to the other side of the basin.

“And then he wanted me to join,” Blade added. “It seemed rude to refuse an invitation, and we needed a bath, anyway…”

“I asked you to bring him to me.”

“Sorry, Sir!” Both squires hopped out of the tub, drying off and dressing in a flash. They both rushed to kneel in front of Meta Knight. Marth lowered himself in the water, peeking just over the rim of the tub. Meta Knight glanced at him.

“I told you no more than ten minutes,” he said sternly. “A bath is a luxurious thing to be enjoyed, but too much of a good thing can be bad for you. Come.”

Marth got out of the water and picked up the towel he’d discarded earlier. He kept his eyes lowered, mortified that he’d gotten the squires in trouble. Meta Knight tied the towel around the human’s waist as Sword and Blade hurried out of the room, getting started on their rounds early and telling Meta Knight that they would take over his watch for the night, as well. Then Marth was led back to Meta Knight’s room.

The prince stumbled when he went to step onto the mats, and ended up on his hands and knees. He turned and knelt, his head bowed, as Meta Knight came to stand in front of him. There was a moment of tense silence while Marth kept his eyes fixed on his knees. “You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?” Marth flinched, but the words weren’t spoken in anger. He glanced up, finding Meta Knight looking at him – not in irritation or disappointment, but as if he was studying him. “You must come from nobility. You lack real discipline.”

The boy’s head sank even further. His first day on land, and already he was failing to fit in. It stung to realize that he had disappointed Meta Knight, whether he was truly angry or not.

Meta Knight observed how distant the boy became. He seemed to be deep in thought. He looked so lost, so despondent, that for a moment Meta Knight’s irritation wavered. This minor incident was the least of Meta Knight’s concerns. It seemed like this boy needed guidance. “Listen to me,” he said, hardening his voice – strength and discipline would be good for the newcomer. “I don’t know where you come from, or what life was like for you there. I don’t know why you were washed up on the shore. But until we can find out more about you, it seems you’re stuck here. Do you have a way to get home from here?”

Marth shook his head. He had to find a way to see Robin, but he couldn’t let Meta Knight know that. He had grown up hearing stories about land dwellers who chopped merfolk up and ate them, or kept them in zoos, or used them for experiments. Merscales were said to be highly prized by Hylians, and it was well known that the denizens of Dreamland had a taste for fish. There was no way Marth could allow anyone here to find out where he was from.  

“Do you wish to remain here?”

Hopeful blue eyes glanced up, finding penetrating yellow staring back at him. He nodded, his hands on his folded knees and gripping the towel firmly. If he could just rest here for a while, he would be able to make his way back to Robin.

“I will offer you shelter. I see no reason to turn you away, but you must follow my orders. Life here can be dangerous at times, and this is for your safety as well as my convenience. I do not tolerate insubordination. Do you understand?”

Marth nodded, his fingers clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. In truth, he was frightened. The rising panic that had threatened to overtake him when he’d awoken was returning, fighting against the seal of calm he had forced over it and the distraction of new experiences.

His apprehension didn’t go unnoticed by the knight, who softened his stance a bit. “Tomorrow I’ll take you out to look around.” Meta Knight saw a spark of interest in the boy’s face. “You would like that? Good. We’ll start early. Now get some rest. I’ll be back later.”

He turned to go, but was stopped by something tugging on his cape. He glanced back, and found Marth bowing low. “What is it?” The prince looked up, then lowered himself again. “Are you trying to apologize?” Marth nodded, and pointed towards the door. “For Sword and Blade?” Another nod, and Marth put a hand to his chest. “I see. You say it was your fault.”

They stared at each other for a moment, the prince trying to get his point across and the knight contemplating the matter. Finally, he said, “Very well. I’ll forgive them. I am quite pleased that you take responsibility for your actions.”

Marth smiled, flushed with relief and a warm feeling that spread through his chest. Meta Knight left, and Marth took a deep breath. The knight was acting almost as if he wanted to guide him, to teach him about the world and his place in it. Marth supposed it was only fitting, since he was now quite the fish out of water. He had no status up here, no family or connections. He considered himself lucky that Meta Knight seemed to accept him, even as his subordinate.

Smiling, almost laughing, he lay on the mats and stared at the ceiling. Everything was going to be OK, he told himself. He knew he would have to return to the ocean, but in the meantime, he could spend some time with Meta Knight.

Really, it couldn’t be so bad.


	5. A Whole New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Marth gets to go out.

“Crap! Crapcrapcrap!” A golden fishtail slapped against the shallow seabed, kicking up sand and making the young sorcerer cough. What was he going to do now? He risked a glance above the waterline, searching the sky for any hint that Marth might be brought back. “Dammit!” He dove again, burrowing into the sediment and burying his face in a short crop of seaweed.

Here he remained, thinking over his predicament. He was almost certain that no harm would come to Marth, since he was no longer a merman and would therefore be safe from the land-dwellers’ voracious appetites. That didn’t mean he would be able to come back.

The plan had been to have Marth out of the water for only a day or two. The sorcerer gulped, his spine chilled. “I’m dead…” he moaned. If the king found out that Robin had thought of such a plan, he would be imprisoned. If it got out that his spell had gone wrong and the prince’s voice had been lost – along with his royal power to control the sea – Robin would most likely be put to death. And if it became known that the prince had been taken away by land-dwellers, to be subject to all sorts of unimaginable savagery, all at Robin’s hands… Well, the death penalty would be preferable to whatever punishment would be given to him.

Suddenly it came to him. “Princess Elice!” he leapt out of the seaweed, dislodging a crab that had nestled into his hair, and sped off towards the palace. If there was one person he could trust on this, it was Marth’s sister.

><><>< 

“Are you alright?”

Marth jolted out of his thoughts as Meta Knight came to stand beside him. He had been sitting at the little table in the anteroom of Meta Knight’s quarters, waiting for someone to return. When the knight had come through the door, though, he had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed.

He gave Meta Knight a reassuring smile. There was no reason to think about the past now, he reminded himself. Remembering what had happened would only make him anxious, and he wanted to focus on the here and now. He had to keep moving ahead.

“Well, dinner will be delivered soon,” Meta Knight said. The boy only nodded.

Sword and Blade arrived then, almost edging into the room cautiously. Marth looked down at the table, too ashamed of the bath incident to meet their gazes. “The patrol’s done for now, Sir,” Sword said.

“We also finished cleaning the Halberd’s upper deck,” Blade added. They had learned long ago that a little bit of sucking up couldn’t hurt when they were in trouble.

“Good. At ease, then.”

The squires looked at each other. “Wasn’t there anything else you were going to add?” Sword asked. “You know, for earlier…”

“There is no need for that.” Meta Knight went to settle in his chair. “The boy has apologized for you.”

Visibly relieved, Sword and Blade came to sit in their usual spots in front of the TV. “Does, uh, he want to watch, too?” Blade asked.

“Boy,” Meta Knight said, and Marth finally looked up. “Would you like to join us?”

Uncertain, Marth pushed himself up and came to stand beside Meta Knight’s chair. Meta Knight motioned for him to sit down, which he did, holding onto the armrest for balance as he shifted into a comfortable position. Then the wooden box in front of them flared to life, and he fell back, startled.

“You’ve never seen a television,” Meta Knight said, figuring that if his civilization lacked showers, they certainly lacked TV.

Captivated, Marth crawled forward between Sword and Blade, who both scooted aside while watching him watch the TV. It was the strangest thing he had ever seen. Tiny people were moving around inside the box, behind a glass window. He reached up to tap on it, wondering if he could get their attention.

“They aren’t real,” Sword said, a hint of mirth in his voice. “It’s only a picture.”

“Can you imagine living without TV?” Blade mused. Marth sat back again, observing the ‘picture’ with keen fascination. When Blade glanced over at him, intent on saying something, he suddenly jerked his head forward again. “Er… S- Sir, his, uh…”

Meta Knight glanced down and saw the towel trailing across the floor. He motioned to Marth, who didn’t notice. Sighing, Meta Knight stood up and moved behind Marth, working quickly to tie the cloth securely around the boy’s waist. The prince frowned, still not fully understanding the meaning behind this odd display. Why did these people act so strangely when he was uncovered?

“What are we going to do about that?” Sword asked. “There’s got to be something he can wear better than a towel…”

“I’ve asked a few Waddle Dees to make some clothing for him. They should be ready tomorrow.” The knight was grateful for this. He didn’t know if he could take another surprise show of skin like that…

The four of them sat in silence, watching a rerun of the DDD Comedy Hour. It truly was amazing that the king managed to find the time to film all this content, Meta Knight thought. The knight alone was totally at ease; the other three were still very aware of each other. Sword and Blade felt obligated to at least engage in polite conversation, but their guest was mute; they ended up just watching television, without really seeing what was going on. Their master’s kindness had always been obvious to them, but it astounded them that he was willing to take in someone totally helpless.

Marth was feeling awkward, as well. With Meta Knight, it was still a little strange actually being with the person he had watched from afar for so long. It was like a dream come true, though very different from what he’d imagined. Having Sword and Blade here felt like an intrusion. He blushed, looking down at his lap, thinking that he had to be the most selfish person on the planet. Here he was, an interloper into their domain, and he was wishing they would leave.

He caught one of them – he still couldn’t tell which was which – staring at him when he looked up. He smiled shyly, a bit anxious to appear friendly to atone for his terrible thoughts. Behind the blue mask, Sword was frowning. He just hoped they wouldn’t all regret this later.

Marth’s first night on land didn’t go as smoothly has he’d thought it would. He’d been so focused on getting up here that he hadn’t considered the time needed to adjust to new surroundings. As Sword and Blade went out for a quick patrol, Meta Knight turned off the TV. “You should rest,” he told Marth. “Go ahead and lay down on my bed. I won’t disturb you.”

The prince walked into the other room and sat on the bed, but realized he wasn’t quite sure how to properly lay on it. He assessed its shape for a moment; the beds used by merfolk were round, and they slept with their tails curled in a ring shape, typically resting their heads on them or on folded arms. Marth liked to sleep on his stomach, but it was difficult to get into the right position on this awkward bed.

Tossing one way and another, Marth figured out that the best way to lay on his stomach was to stretch lengthwise across the bed. Victory! Which end was for his head, though? He pondered this, then noticed the pillow. Obviously, this was to rest his feet, since they got the most use throughout the day. He lay on the mattress and spread out, cradling his head on his folded arms and using the pillow to prop up his feet, not realizing that he was supposed to pull the blanket over himself.

“I’m going to be out for a bit,” Meta Knight called from the other room. The prince closed his eyes as the door shut, and listened for Meta Knight’s retreating footsteps. He liked the sound made when the knight walked; despite his appearance, he must have been heavy with all the equipment he wore. Pauldrons, greaves, and the belts holding up his mask and sword hilt were not entirely foreign to Marth. The merfolk also had armor, made from shells and bone. It was only worn in battle or for show, though. Otherwise it tended to greatly inhibit movement.

Shaking his head, Marth banished thoughts of home before he could get too far lost in them. He was here now. This was his new home, at least for the time being.  

Time passed, but Marth found sleep difficult. The sounds of the castle seemed amplified now that there was nothing else to focus on. Every time he began to drift off, something caught his attention. The wind was most distracting, shifting and rustling constantly. There were other sounds, too, that accompanied it: a scraping that he recognized as fallen leaves brushing along the walls, a whistling that came from Poseidon-knew-where, and pattering sounds that appeared to originate from some living creature.

He heard Sword and Blade coming long before they reached the door, and he closed his eyes to feign sleep as they entered the room. “Sir Meta Knight’s letting him sleep in his bed?” Sword whispered.

“Where else is he supposed to go?” Blade responded quietly. “Besides, I don’t think there’s a selfish bone in milord’s body. You know that.”

“You think he even has bones?”

Blade shook his head, crossing over to the curtain hiding their sleeping area. Sword followed with one last look in Marth’s direction. Marth was still awake, but he held absolutely still so as not to alert them. Now he really did feel awful for viewing them as a nuisance earlier. This was an adjustment for them, as well.

When Meta Knight returned, Marth was still in the pursuit of sleep. He had grown drowsy, though, and had no trouble pretending to be asleep when he heard Meta Knight walk over to him. Sword and Blade had long since retired, and he could hear them snoring behind the curtain. He held his breathing in check, and didn’t twitch at all when he felt something warm brush his cheek.

He couldn’t keep from blushing. Meta Knight’s gloved hand was pushing his hair aside. The prince’s heart beat faster, and it took all of his willpower not to sigh or lean into the touch. Meta Knight noticed this slight change in expression. He didn’t know if the boy was dreaming, or if he was really awake. Deciding to take the risk, he continued his exploration of the circlet on Marth’s head. There didn’t seem to be anything at all about it resembling an electronic device, and he couldn’t detect any magic. If the young man had a translating device or spell on him, it wasn’t housed in the tiara.

Feeling a little put out, Meta Knight withdrew his hand – but not before one last caress of the smooth cheek. He knew this face. This had to be the person who had saved him. He had spoken before, though. Meta Knight remembered a soft voice murmuring to him as he’d been carried over the waves to safety. Now that voice was gone, but he knew this was the one he’d been trying to find. That realization only brought up more questions than it answered, though. Who was he? Why had he saved him? Why was he here now?

Frustrated, Meta Knight returned to his chair and settled in for the night. Eager as he was to know the truth, he had a feeling that time would reveal the answers.

><><>< 

Thankfully the clothes were delivered promptly the next day. After a restless sleep, Marth awoke to rapid knocking on the door. He was still bleary-eyed when Meta Knight answered, and the sound of running feet entered.

"In here,” Meta Knight said, leading three squat little creatures into the bedroom. Marth sat up and drew his legs to his chest as the newcomers swarmed around him, each placing a folded stack of clothing neatly beside him. Once there was an ample pile on the bed, the Waddle Dees filed out of the room, the last one setting a pair of long cuffed boots by the doorway as it passed. “Efficient, aren’t they?” Meta Knight said as the door shut in the other room.

Marth nodded vaguely as Meta Knight hopped onto the bed next to him. Marth prodded the soft pile, daring to lift the corner of one to see what it was made of. "They are for you," the knight said. "I had them modeled after the Hylian style, using a medium measurement. Can you put them on?" Marth stood, already bare from a restless night of sleep that had dislodged the towel from around his waist. Meta Knight looked away as Marth figured out how to put on a dark blue tunic. The pants baffled him at first, but he worked it out after a few minutes of wrestling with them. He walked to the mirror on the wall and looked at himself, smiling. With his legs encased in form-fitting gray fabric and the shirt flaring out just a little at the hips, he thought he looked pretty good. Meta Knight turned back to him and nodded his approval.

"It suits you," the knight said. "I suppose it feels better now, as well?" Marth nodded, turning around to look at his back side. Meta Knight watched him with amusement; he’d never slept in a bed (judging from the way he’d fallen asleep with his feet on the pillow and the blanket beneath him), never watched TV, and now it was apparent that he'd never worn clothes before. What a strange country he must come from, the knight thought. "We can have them make alterations later,” he said, noticing that the pants were a bit on the baggy side and the shirt hung quite low on the boy’s shoulder. “Now that you are properly dressed," he said, stepping off of the bed and walking over to Marth, "would you like to go out for a bit? I'm sure you're tired of this room."

When he said that, the boy's eyes lit up suddenly. He nodded vigorously, and Meta Knight almost laughed at how eager he looked. "How would you like me to show you the countryside?"

Marth remained excited even as they left the castle. He kept stumbling, still unused to his new legs and even more baffled by the long boots Meta Knight had put on him. Meta Knight had to reach out to steady him when he began to tip too far to one side. Stairs were still daunting to him, as were slopes. He nearly fell flat on his face when he tried to walk too quickly down the hill leading from the castle, but he was far too engrossed in his surroundings to care.

For the first time in his life, Marth was seeing the land as it really was – not as a silhouette against the sky. Dry land was just as vibrant as the seafloor, with the breeze acting as a current that stirred everything it could. Marth loved the way it played with his hair, and he turned his face upward for a moment, enjoying the feeling.

He wanted to know about everything – how it felt, how heavy it was, how soft or hard. He experimented by picking up and examining blades of grass, small stones, twigs, leaves, and a grasshopper that surprised him when it leapt out of his hand. Meta Knight allowed the boy these explorations. His preoccupation with the plants puzzled Meta Knight, though. Surely, he knew what a branch was, and what leaves were like. The possibility of amnesia could not be ruled out.

Marth also wanted to know the name for everything. He pointed to an expanse of wood planks spanning a gap over the stream that separated Cappy Village from Castle Dedede. “The bridge?” Meta Knight asked. “What about it?”

“Bridge” was added to Marth’s growing vocabulary, and he stopped for a moment to run a hand along the handrail. Dry wood was slightly rough and warm from the sun. It delighted Marth to press against it, feeling the grain of the wood impressed in his palms. As engrossing as the new texture was, though, the babbling stream soon caught his attention. He watched as small silver fish darted between the rocks and weeds. He allowed his gaze to follow the course of the water as it flowed, rolled, bubbled, and churned, then disappeared over a small ridge before continuing its journey towards the sea.

Watching the distant waves brought up unsettling emotions. Marth pulled back from the bridge railing, recoiling from the sight of the ocean almost as if it could draw him towards it. He knew he needed to go back. Robin would be looking for him, but he didn’t want Meta Knight to see. It was against Altean law to show oneself to a land-dweller, and Marth was sure Robin was in enough trouble as it was. Besides that, it wouldn’t be safe to meet in broad daylight. That was just inviting trouble from all sides.

“Are you ready to continue?” Meta Knight brought Marth out of his reverie. Marth nodded, and the two moved on down the path.

When they came to the ridge above the village, Marth let out a gasp of pleasure. He had never seen the village from this angle, and it was a beautiful sight. He loved the way the houses were arranged, the triangular and squared shapes forming a pleasing geometric pattern. He could see cappies, the majority citizens of Dream Land, milling around at a leisurely pace. Colorful patches in gardens and flowerboxes glinted like seashells among the green lawns and gray stone roads.

“We won’t go into the village today,” Meta Knight said. He led Marth down the right fork in the road, which took them to the forest. Marth was more than happy to go anywhere with Meta Knight, and he followed along like an excited dog, looking this way and that.

They stopped just before entering the forest, and Meta Knight allowed Marth to stray from the path. “It seems you don’t have large forests in your homeland,” he said, noticing that Marth was eyeing the trees warily. Marth walked up to a towering oak and tapped the trunk, testing its density. He pressed his palms against the bark, tracing the grooves and divots and knobs with his fingers. He gasped as a sharp fold of bark dug into his skin, and he retreated with a betrayed look.

“Apparently you don’t have trees, either…” Meta Knight said, watching as the boy backed away from the trees.

“Tree…” Marth mouthed, though of course no sound came out. He took his time examining the underbrush, and even gave the bark another chance, touching it lightly this time. Something crawled onto his hand, and he watched in fascination as it made its way along his outstretched arm.

“That’s a caterpillar,” Meta Knight explained.

Marth held his arm up closer to his face, so he could clearly see the tiny pattern on the “caterpillar’s” back. It appeared to be fuzzy, though it didn’t feel that way on his arm. He smiled at it; it seemed like a happy little creature, with its cheerful coloring and the way it moved along without any fear at being picked up.

“Trees, bridges, and caterpillars are foreign to you…” Meta Knight said. “Where could you have come from? Maybe you are an extraterrestrial, after all, but then how do you know our language?”

Marth glanced at Meta Knight. Even if he could explain, he wasn’t sure he would. Stories came to his mind again, of merfolk turned into food for land-dwellers. He shuddered. Meta Knight would never do that, but if word got out…

He turned back to the caterpillar. It was best not to dwell on it now.

“Look, there they are!” A shout carried across the plain, and Marth spun around. Three people were coming toward them – the pink ball from earlier, and the two children who often accompanied him to the seaside. Marth had watched the two children grow up, in fact, seeing them every summer when they visited the beach.

“Hey, Meta Knight!” the boy called out as they came closer. “We heard about the person you found on the beach. Is that him?”

“Hello, there,” the girl said, addressing Marth. He gave a nervous half-bow, not sure how to react to them. Interacting with the land-dwellers was still a daunting experience.

“Kirby found him,” Meta Knight said. “I am the one who brought him to the castle, though. How did you hear about it?”

“Sword and Blade,” Fumu said. “We asked where you were, because Bun wanted to ask you something. They said you’d left the castle with this person.”

“What’s your name?” Bun asked, looking up at Marth.

“Then they didn’t mention that he can’t speak,” Meta Knight said, “or that we don’t know his name.”

“Wow, that’s too bad,” Fumu said.

“This is Fumu, and her brother Bun,” Meta Knight said to Marth. “You’ve already met Kirby. Fumu and Bun are the Cabinet Minister’s children. They live in the castle.”

Marth bowed to each of them. Then he stood closer to Meta Knight, still unsure of how to behave. He was terrified of doing something considered inappropriate in their culture.

“So, what are you gonna do with him?” Bun asked.

“For now, he’s living with me.”

“Is he a Hylian?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Bun, stop asking questions!” Fumu snapped. “You’re treating him like he’s a zoo animal or something!”

“Uh, sorry…”

Marth smiled, thinking that these two weren’t so bad. They always seemed to play innocently, and he began to relax. Then he noticed the caterpillar still on his arm. He knelt and extended his hand, allowing the insect to crawl to his fingertip. Then he set it on Fumu’s shoulder, thinking she would like it as much as he did.

She didn’t.


	6. Adjustments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Meta Knight starts to suspect something.

It was indeed a mess. Elice resisted the notion to rub her temples, feeling that it wouldn’t relieve her headache anyway. “What should we do?” Robin asked, looking at the princess helplessly.

“We need to find out what went wrong,” Elice said. “Now, you said that his voice disappeared?”

“Yes. He couldn’t talk at all.”

“Oh, Robin… You didn’t take time to prepare the spell, did you?”

Robin looked down at his tailfin. “I thought it was ready…”

The princess sighed, gazing out the window. The gardens looked lovely under the vivid blue and green lights of bobbing lanterns, each illuminated by jellyfish encased in nets. She leaned closer to Robin, speaking softly so the passing guard couldn’t hear them. “I may know how to restore his voice,” she said. “I need Falchion.”

“The legendary sword… That might do it!” Robin nodded. “If he reconnects with it, then it might reawaken his voice, and I’ll be able to reverse the spell!”

“That’s the theory,” Elice said solemnly. “But can you think of any problems with this plan?”

Robin’s face fell. “The king… He took Falchion, didn’t he?”

“That’s right. We need to find a way to get it back.”

“How?”

“Give me time to think about it,” Elice said. “Meanwhile, would you please summon Ike to me? And bring back your entire stock of eel bones.”

Robin rushed to fulfill Elice’s requests. As long as he could be busy, he could feel like they were actually accomplishing something in their rescue mission – and that he was that much safer from execution.

><><>< 

After a few days of eating the land-dweller’s food, it became a problem for the former merman. For his entire life, he had eaten nothing but raw fish, shellfish, and seaweed. Though he enjoyed the flavors of cooked meat, hearty stews, simmered vegetables, and sweets (strange, but enjoyable), it wasn’t long before he grew ill after every meal.

“Sir, I don’t think he’s feeling well…” Blade said one evening, looking at Marth’s shivering form curled up on Meta Knight’s bed.

“Hm… Sick again…” Meta Knight had just come back from a quick errand for the king. He placed a hand on Marth’s forehead, testing for a fever, but the prince was as cool to the touch as he always was. “Are you in pain?”

Marth nodded, balling up tighter as his arms clutched his stomach. As a child, he had once caught and eaten a small, unfamiliar fish and gotten gravely ill from it, learning later that it was poisonous. This reminded him of that time. He trembled, shutting his eyes tightly as he tried to ignore the feeling.

“He seems to get like this almost every night,” Sword said.

Meta Knight’s hand remained on Marth’s forehead, and he absently brushed aside slightly damp bangs before realizing what he was doing. He withdrew, clearing his throat, glad that Sword and Blade had glanced away and weren’t commenting on that gesture. “Maybe it’s the food. They must eat something very different in his country.”

Marth nodded again. Very different, indeed.

“We’ll just have to find things that don’t make you ill.”

“Maybe he can get used to the food little by little, if we can find something similar,” Blade suggested.

“What kinds of things did you eat before?” Meta Knight asked.

The prince didn’t know how to answer. He shivered again, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep.

And so began the search for something he could stand. After such a painful bout of sickness, Marth wasn’t inclined to try anything new again. The next morning, Meta Knight brought him into the village to look at the market. “Do you see anything you recognize?”

Marth immediately went to the fish stand, where Kawasaki was selling the excess catch from that morning. “Welcome!” the chef greeted, and Marth bowed to him in return. “Oh, so this is the one… Sir Meta Knight, I’d heard you had a foreign guest.”

“Yes. He’s staying with me at the castle.”

“Even though you don’t often come to my restaurant, be sure to bring him by sometime! I can introduce him to the local cuisine.”

Meta Knight nodded. “He doesn’t seem to be able to tolerate most of our food. I’m bringing him here to show me what he normally ate at home.”

“Oh, I thought he was rumored to have amnesia?” Kawasaki said, leaning over the stall and speaking quietly.

Meta Knight didn’t answer. “You like to eat fish?” he asked Marth.

The prince nodded, though he didn’t like the thought of going back to eating seafood all the time.

“Hey, I know!” Kawasaki said. “Come in for lunch today, and I’ll prepare all sorts of fish dishes! Nobody’s buying anything today anyway, so it looks like I’ll have extra.”

This didn’t sound like too bad a prospect, and Meta Knight agreed. They returned later that day. Sword and Blade tagged along, claiming to be worried about Marth’s wellbeing but mostly just glad for a chance to eat out for once. “Welcome, welcome!” Kawasaki greeted them at the door. Police Chief Borun was also there, eating a sandwich.

“Oh, Sir Meta Knight!” the rotund cappy waved in greeting. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here.”

“This is the first time!” Kawasaki said, leading the foursome to a table. “So, ready for a tour of all kinds of seafood?”

Marth looked around, interested in the décor featuring scrolls and paper fans. He’d never been to a “restaurant” before, though he gathered it was someplace to eat. “We should do this more often,” Blade said.

“Even if Kawasaki’s cooking isn’t the best…” Sword muttered.

“You may spend your salaries however you want,” Meta Knight said. Sword and Blade looked at each other; just because Meta Knight said they could didn’t mean he wouldn’t disapprove of what he saw as frivolous spending.

“But if it turns out that he can only eat things prepared here, we’ll have no choice,” Blade said.

Meta Knight didn’t say anything. Those two were getting very cheeky lately. Then again, he supposed there was no real harm in it. Life had to be more than discipline, after all.

The first dish was brought out, four small bowls of vinegar octopus and vegetables. Seeing no fork laid out, Marth reached in and took a morsel between his thumb and forefinger. “Er, so they don’t use chopsticks in your homeland, either?” Blade said.

“Should we show him how?” Sword wondered.

“One thing at a time,” Meta Knight said. Teaching the boy to use a fork and knife had been enough of an adventure; he didn’t feel like repeating the process with chopsticks. “I’ll ask Kawasaki to bring a fork.”

Marth sniffed the slimy lump in his hand once and almost gagged, but he took a bite anyway. “No good, huh?” Sword asked, pushing his own portion aside. “I don’t care for it, either.”

“I don’t think it’s awful,” Blade said.

The next course was fried fish with thin slices of potato, served with a fork this time. “They call this fish and chips!” Kawasaki announced. Marth gripped the utensil the way he’d been shown, and dug in with more enthusiasm. This one wasn’t so bad. During the third course (grilled fish, which was quite to his liking), Marth glanced over at Meta Knight. Somehow his food was disappearing, but he never seemed to touch it – as usual.

The fourth course was the one that stole Marth’s heart. He examined the strange assortment of shapes and colors – two lumps of rice topped with strips of raw fish, wrapped with something that smelled like seaweed; and a dozen little rolls with fish in the center of rice and the same thin seaweed. There was a faint scent of vinegar, but it wasn’t nearly as strong as the first dish.

“Special sushi sampler!” Kawasaki said. “Tuna, yellowtail, squid, and shrimp.”

With one bite, Marth was in love. The fish and seaweed were familiar to him, but the rice and additional flavorings added something exotic. He finished his helping in no time at all.

After paying their bill (and adding some extra for the second plate of sushi Marth asked for), the four returned to the castle. Marth went right to work with his writing, something he’d been practicing with Meta Knight’s help. Fumu had even offered to teach him some, having discovered an aptitude for instructing others.

There was a notepad that contained a list of Marth’s favorite words. Below “Meta Knight”, “Sword”, “Blade”, “Training”, and “Water”, he added another in large letters: “Sushi”.

“Not bad,” Meta Knight said, looking over the boy’s shoulder. “Do you think you can spell out your name yet?”

Marth shook his head. The TH sound still confounded him.

“Keep practicing, and you should get it soon. For now, though, we’re going to the training grounds.” Marth looked up hopefully. “You want to come, too?” A nod. “Very well.”

The prince followed his hosts to the small area set aside for training. He enjoyed watching them spar, and he took up his usual spot on a crate near the entrance. It was a clear, warm day, and he tilted his face up to enjoy the sunshine for a moment as Sword and Blade squared off to face each other.

Meta Knight came to stand beside Marth. “I see the way you watch us out here,” he said, and Marth gave a start. Had the knight noticed him staring? “You look like you want to join.”

Almost sighing in relief, Marth nodded. He really had missed practicing with Falchion. He took a practice sword from the rack and hefted it. Everything felt heavier on land, and Falchion was made of bone. This was a solid piece of iron. Still, he managed to swing it with apparent ease after a few tries. “Not bad,” Meta Knight commented. “It seems you’ve held a sword before. When you’re ready, I will spare with you.”

Marth stood opposite Meta Knight and away from where Sword and Blade were trading blows. He took a fighting stance, but lost his balance and fell. Meta Knight waited patiently for the boy to get back on his feet. Marth tried again, planting his feet wider. This odd display aroused Meta Knight’s suspicions. The boy seemed to know how to hold a sword just fine, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with his legs.

Meta Knight allowed a few more minutes for Marth to get into position, and then he attacked. Marth parried flawlessly, but then he faltered on the counterstrike. He tripped over his feet again, but managed to recover. Still unsteady, though, he fell when he tried to counter the next blow.

“Not bad,” Meta Knight said, helping Marth to stand. “Try again.”

The rush of training once more began to invigorate Marth’s limbs. He started sidestepping and changing his stance as needed, growing more confident as Meta Knight directed him in how to move. As he got into the right mindset, his motions became more graceful. Meta Knight smirked under his mask. The boy was actually offering a bit of a challenge, with his unpredictable movements. His fighting style was unlike any other Meta Knight had faced. When holding the training sword, it seemed as if he struggled; in motion, though, his swings were almost too powerful. If he really was from another planet, it was likely that the local gravity was much higher.

Indeed, Marth was used to much more resistance than air offered. It was easier for him to move up here, despite his awkward footing. He was much faster than Meta Knight had anticipated, his muscles used to years of underwater swordsmanship.

“That’s enough for now,” Meta Knight said at last, reaching out to take Marth’s hand after the boy had fallen again. “You have a practiced arm.”

Marth blushed, feeling pleased with himself.

“Go inside and clean up,” Meta Knight said. “I won’t chastise you if you want to take a bath.”

Hearing his third-favorite word, Marth nodded and spun around, stumbling momentarily before rushing off to the bathroom.

“Sir, did you notice…?” Blade muttered.

“He has a strange way of fighting. Almost as if he’s never fought on his own two legs before,” Sword added.

“But he holds the sword properly,” Meta Knight said. He drew something out of his cape and looked at it carefully.

“What’s that?” Blade asked.

Meta Knight didn’t answer. Instead, he held it up to the light. It was the scale he had once found by the beach. In the full sunlight, it sparkled a deep blue like the starry sky. It had been tucked into his cape for months, nearly forgotten.

“You found that a while ago, didn’t you?” Sword said. “A scale… You don’t think…?”

They were beginning to suspect what Meta Knight was. “Who knows?” he said, putting the scale away and walking out of the yard. Whatever the truth was, he had a feeling that they would find out soon enough.


	7. The Prince Abashed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Marth receives a tongue-lashing.

The discovery of the written TH was a turning point in Marth’s writing education, and it came a few weeks after he had begun his writing lessons. He found an entire world unlocked for him then, and it all began with the spelling of his own name. When Meta Knight came in from patrol one night, Marth proudly showed him his notepad.

“My nam is Marth,” Meta Knight read, and he nodded in satisfaction. “Well done, Marth.” It would be a relief to be able to call him something other than Boy or You.

The prince beamed with pleasure. He took the notepad again, and wrote something else out. “Thank you for evrything.”

“You’re welcome,” Meta Knight’s eyes flashed blue. “Can you tell me where you’re from?”

Marth hesitated, then wrote, “Altea.”

“I’ve never heard of it. Is it on another planet?” Meta Knight couldn’t help noticing how uncomfortable Marth became. He bit his lower lip, as was his habit when he was nervous. It was rather attractive.

“No,” Marth finally wrote.

Meta Knight regarded the boy for a moment. “You thanked me earlier,” he said. “But shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?”

Marth looked up, confused.

“I fought a demon beast called Wolfwrath, not long ago,” Meta Knight said. “It got the better of me, and I fell into the ocean. Before I could sink, I was saved by someone who carried me back to shore.” He looked at Marth, who was staring down at his own lap. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

The prince remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the floor. Meta Knight took the scale out of his cape. “Is this yours?” he asked.

A tense moment of silence passed. Marth didn’t know whether to confide in Meta Knight or not. Fortunately, Meta Knight spared him that choice. “Somehow, I know it was you. But if you wish for that to remain a secret, then so be it. It’s not my place to pry.”

Marth finally met Meta Knight’s gaze, and Meta Knight noticed the fear in those eyes. “I only wanted to know if I owed you my gratitude.”

Marth smiled. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Meta Knight, taking the knight by surprise. He didn’t know how else to express his gratitude. Meta Knight seemed to have frozen, but he didn’t pull away. He had only been embraced like this a few times in his life, usually by fellow Star Warriors after a hard-won battle. This was a strange sensation, but he didn’t feel relieved when Marth released him and sat back. Being hugged by the boy had made him feel hot all over, and now he felt a strange sense of loss.

“Well, you should get some rest,” he said, somewhat stiffly. Marth nodded and got to his feet, pausing to write “Good nait,” before going to bed. Meta Knight stood in the anteroom for a while, not sure what to do with the sudden upsurge of emotions. He looked at the scale again, turning it slightly so it could catch the light. It was the same color as Marth’s eyes, he realized. Putting the scale away again, he decided to go back for another brief patrol.

It wasn’t a good idea to be alone with Marth just now.

><><>< 

The song pulled Marth out of his dreams. It was a sad song, a lament, but desperate too. He sat up on the bed, his heart beating faster. He knew that voice. He smiled, overjoyed. She had found him.

He pulled on his long gray boots, and ran out of the room. Stumbling along the hallway here and there, still uncomfortable with running, he tore past a group of Waddle Dees and veered out into the courtyard. In the darkness he was running blind, and he fell as soon as he had crossed the drawbridge to the grassy slope leading to the sea. He pushed himself up, panting, looking around.

There! He stood again, brushing himself off, and made for the faint glow down by the water’s edge. That blue light brought him to the shore, where Elice was singing the song calling him back. As he tripped over the sand, her voice faded until there was nothing but the pounding of the surf and his own panting breaths. She lowered the intricately carved ivory lantern, releasing the luminescent jellyfish back into the water.

The waves were choppy tonight. Something in her song had aroused their wrath. Suddenly his joy was dampened as he saw the look she was giving him – that look that was all too similar to their father’s expression of disappointment and anger. He approached her slowly, his head down but meeting her eyes, like a puppy with his tail between his legs.

“Marth,” she sighed, reaching out to him. He ran the rest of the way to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her shoulder as she held him tightly. As angry as she probably was with him, he was still happy to see her. He had hoped Robin would go to her for help.

“What have you done?” she pulled back and looked him up and down. “Oh, Marth, what were you thinking?”

He looked into her eyes, wishing he could make her understand.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

He dropped to his knees, and wrote a message in the wet sand next to her curled indigo tail. “Robin told me all about it. What I want to know is why you agreed to it!” Her harsh tone brought a spray of water up to bombard his face, and he sneezed.

She was furious now, and he backed away a little bit. He scratched out another note. “I understand you were desperate, but this? Do you know what you have done?”

He wrote something else.

“This isn’t just about that. I know I can visit you! You were not meant to live on land, Marth!” She held his gaze, her eyes suddenly sad. “You belong in the ocean, with us. Coming here even for a day… you’re just running from your problems. You need to stand up to Father.”

Marth frowned. There was no way she could expect him to defy their father so openly. He shook his head, suddenly defensive about his choice. Coming up here had been more fun than he’d expected, and he wasn’t sorry that he’d done it.

Elice took a few calming breaths, sinking back into the water to do so. When she emerged again, she was looking at Marth with such sorrow that he could hardly stand to meet her gaze. “What’s done is done. But you realize you’ll have to return eventually.”

Marth nodded. Of course, he knew that; he just chose to believe that time would never come.

“I believe I know of a way to get you back to your old self,” Elice said. “I must reunite you with Falchion. Father has refused to let me have it so far, and he’s too angry right now to listen to reason. But I’m going to try to get it back for you.”

Marth nodded again, but the thought did not bring him pleasure. Somehow, he had convinced himself that he could go on living with Meta Knight like this. If he remained on land, he would never have to confront Cornelius.

Elice reached out to hug her brother again, and he willingly embraced her. “You poor, stupid boy…” she sighed, and he grinned despite himself. He had done very little in his life by way of rebellion. Now was his chance to pay his father back for everything. “I’ll do what I can. Hopefully Father won’t find out where you are. That would bring trouble to the land-dwellers.” She backed away then, looking at the sky behind Marth. “Take care of yourself.”

He grasped her arms again, pulling her to him. Surely, she didn’t have to go already.

“I’ll come see you again,” Elice said, glancing up at the hill. “I must go; someone’s coming. Listen for my song, alright?”

Marth nodded, looking over his shoulder through the darkness and seeing the glint of metal in the moonlight, high in the sky. He let his sister’s hands slip from his reluctantly, and watched as she retreated under the water. The faint shimmer of her scales dimmed and faded, swallowed by the black waves glistening silver under the moon.

“Marth.” Marth turned as Meta Knight landed next to him. “Sword reported that he saw you running from the castle. What’s wrong?”

Looking down at the knight, Marth felt suddenly disoriented. He sank to the ground, closing his eyes. His sister’s words were sinking in. Everything familiar to him was hundreds of feet below the waves, and now he was dependent on the kindness of a person he had been observing for only a few months. It had been a one-sided relationship, and Marth was beginning to realize that he knew less about the knight than he thought. He would have to go back one day, and it would most likely be the last time he could see Meta Knight. He certainly couldn’t speak with him after he had returned home. Why was he even bothering with this relationship? His sister had been right – he was stupid.

A gloved hand steadied him, holding onto his shoulder as concerned yellow eyes met his. Marth gripped the knight’s hand, mindless of his wet clothes, leaning closer to him. Even if it was temporary, he couldn’t deny that he wanted this relationship to grow.

“Come,” Meta Knight held out his arms, and Marth climbed on, huddling close to Meta Knight as he was lifted into the air. As much as he wanted to give in to the guilt, he just couldn’t when he felt the knight’s warm embrace. Even the burn of cold metal through his clothes, where he made contact with the mask, was welcome. Why Meta Knight held his admiration and infatuation, he didn’t know. He just knew that every day spent with him cemented his resolve to stay as long as possible – perhaps even forever, he thought with a jolt of panic. Was he really beginning to prefer that drafty castle over his own home?

When they returned to the castle, he walked right back to Meta Knight’s room, suddenly exhausted. Everything was going to be fine, though, he reasoned with himself. If Elice did manage to get Falchion back, he would still be able to watch Meta Knight from afar. And if she never retrieved the sword…

Well, he was beginning to think he’d be fine with that, too.


	8. Terrestrial Economics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Marth gets a job.

Under the bright, clear sky, Ike emerged from the water with his hand shielding his face. The blue-haired swordsman fell forward, using only his upper body to pull himself onto a rock, as Elice gave him a wet pile of clothes. “The spell will last until you return to the ocean,” she said. “Once your head is fully submerged, you’ll change back.”

“Right.” Flexing his new legs, Ike began to work his way into the clothes. “How do you know Marth’s up here, anyway?”

“Never mind that,” Elice said. “He’s in that castle up there.” She pointed to the top of the hill overlooking the sea.

“Damn,” Ike said, though whether it was in reaction to her words or to the sopping wet clothes clinging to him, Elice couldn’t tell. The outfit was just about his size, comprising a pair of tan pants and a dark blue shirt. Waterlogged boots completed the outfit. “Ugh, where did you get these, anyway?”

“I, ah, found them…”

“Aw, don’t tell me…” He sniffed at the ragged cloth, wrinkling his nose. “These are dead guy clothes, aren’t they?”

“A drowned sailor,” she admitted. “I found them in a shipwreck not far from here – a Hylian ship.”

Ike put them on with difficulty, disliking the way they clung to his drying skin. “You promise you’ll keep the king off my tail?”

“Of course,” Elice said. “As long as you stay close to Marth’s side. Whatever happens, you must protect him. I’m afraid for his safety…”

“I still think you should have more faith in him,” Ike said, tying off the rotting laces of the boots. “Yuck… You couldn’t have found anything fresher?”

“Just keep an eye on him,” Elice said, ignoring that last comment. “Hopefully I can get Falchion back before anything disastrous happens…”

Ike took a few moments to swing his legs around, kicking out and holding them up to test their strength. Soon he was standing on his own, though very shakily. “It’s gonna take a little while to get used to this…”

“Ike, thank you.”

“No problem, Your Highness,” Ike said, smiling reassuringly at her. He looked over his shoulder, towards the castle. “So, that’s where he ran off to… I’ll be sure to give him hell for it.” 

He waded clumsily to the shore, stumbling several times. In the end, he was forced to crawl to dry land. When he turned back, the princess was waving to him. “Be careful!” she called, and he waved back, watching as her shining blue hair disappeared under the waves.

As the prince’s bodyguard, Ike had been more than eager to help Elice. She knew she could trust him to protect Marth from anything – even from their father. Ike was up to this task, and he steeled himself as he pushed off of the sand and began tottering around. His boots made an unpleasant squishing sound wherever he stepped, and he shuddered. “For Marth…” he grumbled. “And when I find him, I’m gonna make HIM wear these things!” 

><><>< 

As Marth spent more time on land, he began to learn about things that had no equivalent in his culture. Modesty was one thing. He began to grow shy about being naked around others. Money was another thing that the merfolk didn’t have. He learned that in Dreamland, people performed jobs in order to earn payment, which they used to buy food and other things to live. This had been explained to him one day when he’d curiously examined the coins used to pay for another meal of sushi at Kawasaki’s restaurant.

Once he came to this realization, he began to feel guilty. Every time he had a chance to eat at Kawasaki’s, his meal was paid for by someone else’s hard-earned money. His clothes had cost money, too, and the soap he used for his baths. Meta Knight had had to purchase the cot he slept on every night. Even water and electricity cost money, he found out.

It only seemed fair to get some kind of job, so he could help pay for himself. One day he had pointed to the word in a book he was reading, and showed it to Meta Knight. “Hm?” the knight didn’t seem to understand, so Marth began writing out the words, using the book for reference. His education was coming in handy, as he could now communicate in simple sentences, but he still had trouble with matching certain symbols to the sounds they represented. He carried a dictionary, his alphabet guide, and a pad of paper everywhere he went. It was coming along well, despite his frequent spelling errors.

“I want to hav a job.”

Meta Knight read the neat little strokes that had become Marth’s particular style. “Why would you want something like that? Are you getting bored?”

“I want to ern money,” the prince wrote. “I want to pay for myself.”

Meta Knight’s eyes flashed blue. The boy may sometimes act like a spoiled brat, but his heart was in the right place. “Hm. Very well. What kind of work are you going to get?”

Marth thought about this for a moment. “I can help the wadel dees,” he wrote.

“They don’t earn a wage,” Meta Knight said. “If your goal is to earn money, you’d be better off seeking work in the village.”

Marth nodded, and put his pad of paper back in the leather satchel he carried it around in. He went to the mirror in the bedroom, checking his appearance. Blue tunic, gray trousers, and gray boots were all smoothed and adjusted, until he was satisfied. He then turned and hopped down the step into the anteroom again, waving to Meta Knight as he took off through the door.

Emerging into the bright sunlight, Marth blinked to get used to it as he practically skipped through the courtyard. When he reached the slope beyond the drawbridge, he slowed down and carefully made his way to the village, stopping only to admire the view from the bridge. He knew exactly where he was going, and he didn’t hesitate as he reached Kawasaki’s restaurant and went inside.

“Welcome!” Kawasaki called, and then perked up when he saw who it was. “Oh, my best customer! Did you come here for more sushi? Where’re Sir Meta Knight and the others?” Not only was Marth becoming a sushi gourmet, but he enjoyed Kawasaki’s cooking as much as Kirby did. His palette had never learned a good flavor from a bad flavor, and only very strong tastes turned him off of certain foods.

Marth shook his head, though he decided that he would have to get some sushi later. “I wood laik a job,” he wrote.

“A job, huh?” Kawasaki scratched his chin. “Well, I suppose I could use a waiter around here… Though I can’t pay you much.”

“Not much pay,” Marth wrote. “I only need a litel.”

“Well, ‘a little’ sounds like a good figure to me!” Kawasaki laughed. “Come on back and grab an apron!”

The restaurant relied on a steady trickle of loyal customers – not necessarily because they loved the food, but because Kawasaki’s was the only restaurant in town. Kawasaki had plenty of time to show Marth the basics of waiting tables before their first customers arrived.

“Welcome!” Kawasaki called from the kitchen. “We’ll be right with you! OK, go out there and do your stuff.”

Marth nodded, determination firing him up. He walked into the dining room and bowed to the guests, who had already seated themselves. “Hello,” the man said. Marth bowed again. “Er… So, you’re our waiter?” Marth nodded, and took out his notepad and pen. He waited expectantly.

“Um… OK, we’d like to start with drinks,” the man said.

Marth wrote, “Drinks,” on his pad and dashed off before they could specify. He showed the pad to Kawasaki.

“What kind of drinks?” Kawasaki asked. “A ‘drink’ isn’t something in particular, you know… There are different kinds.”

Marth could have slapped himself. Of course! It was just like with food. He went back to the guests and stood with his pen ready.

“So, our drinks…” the woman said, and each placed an order which was written down meticulously by Marth. He ran back to the kitchen and showed Kawasaki his paper.

“Ais tee and soda?” Kawasaki scratched his head. “What is ais tee? Oh, ICE tea! I got it.”

The prince brought out a tray of drinks, and set them down the way he’d seen Kawasaki do it. Then he stood there, waiting for their food order.

The customers had an awkward experience, but Marth was elated. Even if he did trip a few times, what was the harm? The food was very good today, he thought, as he took a few bites of the customers’ orders. They looked very disturbed by something as he set the plates down, still munching on a French fry. He frowned, wondering what he could do to make them feel at ease. He wrote down, “Plees cal me if you need anything,” and retreated to the kitchen.

By the end of the day, even Kawasaki had realized this wasn’t going to work. Marth frequently mixed up various things, putting oranges in water instead of lemons and potatoes on salad instead of tomatoes; he misspelled all of the orders, resulting in the wrong dishes being sent out; and he had a habit of tasting the food, even in front of the guests. The chef wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it himself.

“Thanks for today,” Kawasaki said nervously as he handed Marth an envelope with a few bills inside. “But, uh, I really can’t afford to keep paying you… It might be best if you just found work elsewhere.”

Marth took his pay and nodded, feeling a bit dejected. He had enjoyed waiting tables, and he’d gotten a free meal’s worth of tidbits. Still, he now had one day’s pay under his belt, and he left the restaurant feeling accomplished. Kawasaki only felt relieved.

When he returned to the castle, he proudly gave Meta Knight the envelope. “So, you found work. How was it?”

“It was fun but Kawasakee sed he cood not pay me anymor,” Marth wrote. “I wil find another job tomorow.”

“Good. Keep trying,” Meta Knight said, and tried to hand back the envelope.

“Plees aksept the money,” Marth wrote. “I want to pay for evrything I hav cost you.”

“An admirable goal. I’ll keep it, then, but from now on you should keep your wages for yourself.”

Marth nodded, and sat beside Meta Knight’s chair. The TV would not be turned on until Sword and Blade arrived, but Marth was eager for it. He browsed through his dictionary while he waited, jotting down words for practice.

He was so innocent-seeming, Meta Knight sometimes found himself thinking a little too protectively about him. He hadn’t been able to resist peeking in on him at the restaurant, and what he’d seen was discouraging to say the least. “Marth,” he said, a sudden thought occurring to him. “Would you like to become a guard here at the castle?”

Marth nodded, turning around so he could fully face the knight. This was good – as a castle guard, he would be easy to watch over. Meta Knight felt much more comfortable with this thought. At least with guard duty, there was very little chance he would screw up. “I’ll speak with Captain Waddle Doo in the morning,” he said. “And I’ll have Sword and Blade train you.” With them looking after the boy, Meta Knight could relax. That would also negate the problem of Marth’s muteness, which would be a hinderance were he alone and suddenly faced with a threat. He wouldn’t be able to alert anyone.

Again, Meta Knight wondered why he bothered with this. It was a hassle to follow the boy around, especially with his curious way of interacting with the world around him. When he looked into those eyes, though, his resolve only strengthened. Marth was now gazing at him so admiringly that Meta Knight felt a little self-conscious. He was loath to admit that he was blushing under his mask.

Thankfully, Sword and Blade arrived before he could say anything embarrassing. “All’s quiet,” Blade said as he and his companion came to sit in their usual spots. “How did the job hunt go?” he asked Marth.

Marth nodded, smiling. “He found work at the restaurant,” Meta Knight said. “He was considerate enough to give me today’s wages, as thanks, he said. But I’m going to arrange for him to work as a guard here.”

“That should be easy work for you,” Sword said.

“You’ll show him around,” Meta Knight said.

“Understood,” the squires nodded in unison. They were agreeable to that.

The TV flared to life, and Marth settled back to watch with the others. The DDD Evening News was just about over, and today would be the DDD Variety Show – one of Marth’s favorites. This had become a daily ritual – four swordsmen and a television. Meta Knight took a moment to observe the scene fondly before alighting in his chair, keenly aware of the prince sitting beside him.

Peaceful, happy times had been few and far between in his life, and he cherished them all the more for it. He had lost too many friends to take anyone for granted. Though Marth had been with them for a short time, he was already beginning to feel protective of the young man. The realization that Marth was the person who had rescued him was only another piece to the puzzle. Despite Marth’s apparent concerns that something bad would happen were his identity discovered, it would not disrupt the developing symbiosis between them.

As the opening notes of Channel DDD’s hourly weather forecast played, Meta Knight was surprised to feel something soft against his skin. Glancing over, he found the prince leaning against the armrest, his head on the knight’s arm. Blushing, his heartbeat picking up, Meta Knight focused on the TV. As fond as he was of Marth, sometimes he grew too interested.

Far too interested.


	9. Hurricane Ike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Ike arrives on the scene.

So far, Marth’s little adventure on land was turning out quite well. He was still experiencing so many new things, he almost couldn’t keep track of them all. There was never a dull moment around the castle, and he had met all sorts of interesting people. Most importantly, though, he was with the knight. Whether they were strolling about the castle grounds, or having a reading lesson, or sparring in the courtyard, the time they spent together was like a dream. Elice’s visit was beginning to fade from the prince’s mind.

Currently the two were sitting in the courtyard after a match. Sword and Blade were on patrol, and though Marth had warmed up to them a lot, he liked to occasionally have time alone with Meta Knight. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” the knight said as they watched Bun and Kirby kick a ball around the yard.

Marth nodded to show he was listening.

“Did you intend to come here?”

The prince’s notepad was beside him, but he didn’t pick it up. “Whether you did or not,” Meta Knight continued, “I would like to know where you intend to go. I would… not be disappointed if you were to stay here for a while longer.”

Marth smiled, his face heating up. Grabbing his notepad, he wrote, “I want to stae for a wael.”

“I think Sword and Blade would enjoy that.”

The prince’s heart almost soared. By now he knew that Meta Knight had trouble being direct in matters of the heart – whether because he didn’t want to be or because he truly was emotionally stunted, Marth didn’t know. Regardless, this was a sign that Meta Knight enjoyed having him around as much as Marth enjoyed being here.

Growing bolder with the rush of emotion, Marth leaned over and rested his head against Meta Knight’s pauldron. The knight was sitting two steps above Marth, thanks to his habit of choosing high perches. This allowed Marth to keep his face from Meta Knight’s view, which was a relief – he was blushing so hard he knew he must be bright red. He didn’t know how else to convey his feelings, though. He was really growing to care for the knight.

Meta Knight didn’t pull away, but he was unsure of what to do now. Since the end of the war, he hadn’t been in physical contact with anyone outside of battle. Marth had done this once before, but still Meta Knight didn’t know how to react.

His hand was just coming up to rest on Marth’s back when Fumu came running across the drawbridge. “Sir Meta Knight!” The shrill cry bounced off of the stone walls of the courtyard. Marth pulled back as the girl breezed past Bun and Kirby, stopping at the foot of the stairs where the two swordsmen were.

“What’s wrong?” Meta Knight asked.

“There’s this stranger asking about, uh…” Fumu glanced up at Marth. “Well, he’s asking about you.”

Marth frowned, not liking this at all. Had his father truly come after him? Meta Knight turned to him, studying his expression. “Perhaps he’s a friend of yours,” he suggested. Somehow the thought irritated him. The silent young man was a good companion, and was turning out to be quite the accomplished swordsman. He didn’t like the prospect of someone coming to take him back where he’d come from.

“He was on the beach road leading here,” Fumu said. “He met me at the intersection as I was coming from the village, and asked if I’d seen a guy with blue hair around.”

“What did you tell him?” Bun asked as he and Kirby joined the group.

“Well, I told him I didn’t know, but he was right behind me last I checked… He could be here any minute.”

“Poyoyo!” Kirby interrupted, jumping up and down. They all turned to follow his line of sight.

“Speak of the devil…” Meta Knight murmured, then stepped forward. The aforementioned stranger was currently stalking across the castle grounds, making a bee line for them. He appeared none too happy, and his eyes were fixed on the young man standing behind Meta Knight. “Who approaches?” Meta Knight asked once the man was in earshot.

“Huh?” The man started, almost as if he was noticing Meta Knight and the others for the first time. “Oh, you talk… My name is Ike, and I’ve come to speak to him.” He pointed at Marth.

“Do you know this person?” Meta Knight asked Marth, who was staring at Ike as if he was seeing a ghost. A protective flame sparked to life in the knight when he thought that maybe this stranger was pursuing the silent young man. Maybe Marth was in hiding from some great danger.

“Prince Marth,” Ike said, ignoring Meta Knight entirely. “You know why I’m here.”

“Did you say ‘prince’?” Fumu asked. Meta Knight’s eyes flashed green as he glanced back at Marth.

Ike extended his hand, stepping closer. “Come on, let’s go.”

“He will not be going, unless he wants to,” Meta Knight said. Ike’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at the other warrior.

“This is none of your business,” Ike said.

“He is in my care,” Meta Knight said evenly. “I don’t know where you come from, but here it is not advisable to barge into someone’s home and start making demands.”

“You must wanna get kicked around a bit.” The taller swordsman drew his weapon, the likes of which Meta Knight had never seen before. It gleamed white in the sunlight, and appeared to be made of bone or ivory. Marth felt a pang of envy, rueful that he was no longer able to even hold Falchion. Ragnell was just as impressive, though. “He’s coming with me.”

Galaxia crackled into being. If this intruder wanted a fight, he would get one. Before either of them could make a move, though, Marth rushed forward and took Ike off guard with his placeholder steel sword. Several lightning-fast blows connected, and though the flat of the blade did no harm it left the warrior reeling. Marth wasn’t about to let Ike take him back to Altea. “Hey, what gives!” Ike said, dodging and blocking the prince’s attacks. “I’d think you’d be a little happier to see me, Marth!”

Marth threw his sword aside, dropped to the ground, and scratched furiously in the dirt. Fumu and Bun backed away, but Kirby sat down to join him. When they were finished, there was a line of straight markings next to an unrecognizable doodle. Meta Knight watched as the warrior scanned the marks.

“I’m not here to take you away,” Ike said, sheathing his weapon on his back. “Look, I’m sorry if I seemed kind of angry, but you have no idea what trouble you’ve caused for the rest of us.”

Marth wrote another message below the first.

“Your sister sent me. I’m going to look after you until she finds some way to get Falchion back.”

Marth shook his head. Ike sighed.

“You don’t seem to get it, do you? Your running away is only half the problem. If your voice really is inside the sword, and someone figures that out and finds a way to use it, we could all be royally fu- er…” he glanced at the three children, who were staring up at him. “Messed up.”

“What do you mean by that?” Meta Knight asked.

Ike finally turned his full attention on Meta Knight. He didn’t know why he viewed the round warrior with such contempt. Maybe it was that he had stood between him and the prince, as if Ike was some kind of threat. The swordsman spat on the ground, irritated. Who did this guy think he was? Ike and Marth had been friends since childhood. “This is between me and the prince,” Ike said.

Marth sighed, looking between the two. Both appeared ready to continue the discussion with their swords. He stood and put a hand on Ike’s chest, looking up at him sternly. “Do these people even know where you’re from?”

This time Marth wrote on his notepad, taking a long while. Ike rubbed the back of his head, glancing around at the others, feeling more and more awkward. He often acted rashly, and now perhaps he had overstepped some boundaries. When Marth handed him the paper, he examined it curiously. “Weird…” he muttered before reading the message.

“I see… I get that you were mad at him, but it was still pretty stupid of you. Teenagers really are dumb…”

Marth frowned, writing something else and tapping the notepad insistently. “I’m still older than you,” Ike said. “And I never said I was smarter when I was your age.”

Throughout this exchange, the others had held their tongues. Fumu wasn’t able to any longer, though. “You don’t have amnesia, do you?” she asked. Marth shook his head, his gaze still on Ike. He hadn’t wanted his story to come out. He’d wanted to pretend he was someone completely new, but with Ike here, it seemed that his plans were going out the window.

“This doesn’t have to concern any of you,” Ike said, looking at Meta Knight. Though these creatures seemed on good terms with Marth now, he wasn’t sure they would be as friendly if they knew what he really was. He’d grown up with the same stories that Marth had, after all. He wasn’t surprised the prince had concealed his identity.

“Hold on!” Fumu said. The girl’s tenacity startled Ike. “If he’s hiding from something, I think we should know what it is. What if it puts us in danger?”

Marth shook his head vigorously. He would never put any of them in danger – at least on purpose. And he doubted that even his father would do something like flood the country in anger.

“Look, it’s nothing too bad,” Ike said. “He’s not a criminal or anything, just a dumb kid who ran away from home because his dad made him mad.” The prince huffed indignantly.

“What of his voice?” Meta Knight asked. “You mentioned some kind of problem with that. What is it?”

Marth sighed, dropping onto the steps again. He showed Ike a newly-written note. “Wait, it was Robin?!” Ike’s sudden burst of anger didn’t surprise Marth at all. Ike held a deep mistrust of sorcerers. “You let him use you like some kind of experiment?!”

Hastily, Marth wrote something else. “Don’t worry, I won’t let them know,” Ike said. “Listen, the prince and I aren’t human. I, uh, can’t say what we are, but we’re not normally like this. Looks like the prince allowed a friend of his to change him so he could come ashore.”

Marth wanted to groan, but all he could do was let out a frustrated sigh. He scribbled furiously on the notepad, and Ike flushed in indignation.

“Well, if you didn’t want me to tell them, you should have said so!”

Marth wrote something else.

“OK, OK… Sorry. Er… Disregard that last part, everyone. It’s just that this sorcerer friend of his did something wrong, and now his voice is gone.”

Marth slapped himself on the forehead. It was too late to take it back now.

“Why did you come here?” Fumu asked.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Ike said, crossing his arms.

Marth began to write, pausing here and there to choose the right words. Ike looked at the pen with suspicion, but couldn’t help wondering about it. He had always secretly been interested in the devices people on dry land used. As children, he and Marth had explored sunken ships and made up all kinds of explanations for the things they found within.

The paper was finally given to Ike, and he read the message aloud. “Now that you all know, I may as well admit it. Ike and I are from the ocean, and I did trade my tailfin for these legs. Even before I came here, I was fascinated with your culture. I visited the surface often. One day, I witnessed a battle between Sir Meta Knight… Who’s that?” He looked up, and Marth nodded towards Meta Knight. “Oh, him. Let’s see… a battle between Sir Meta Knight and some kind of monster. Sir Meta Knight was injured in the fight, and fell into the water. I couldn’t just let him drown, so I saved him. Father found out about it before I could even get home, and he took away Falchion and imprisoned me.”

“Falchion?” Fumu asked.

“The prince’s sword,” Ike said. “It’s a national treasure, passed down in the royal family. It’s rightfully his, so to have it taken like that had to have been…” he trailed off, noticing the way Marth bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Marth. I just thought you’d left it behind.” He placed a hand on the prince’s shoulder, and got a slight smile in return. “But to run away just because of that?” Marth tapped the notepad, and Ike continued reading.

“When Father locked me in the tower, I knew I would not see daylight for a very long time… Man, I never knew he did that kind of thing.”

Marth shrugged. Ike returned to the letter. Meta Knight was listening raptly, this being the most that he’d ever heard from the young man. He was much more proficient at communication in his native script, and to hear it read as it was meant to be was like hearing Marth himself speak. “It’s true that Robin, my friend, was the one who thought of sending me up here, but I am the one who agreed. It was something that I didn’t think through before undertaking. I could only hope to escape my father on land, but I only intended to hide for a short time, hoping that Father would calm down. When the spell went wrong, I lost my voice and could not return to my original body. Sir Meta Knight found me in dire straits, and he helped me. I began to think that I could stay up here for a while. I’m sorry for putting you through so much trouble, Ike, but lately I’ve been wondering if going back is the right thing to do.”

Marth’s face reddened slightly as Ike read the final lines. “Sir Meta Knight, Sword, Blade, Kirby, Ms. Fumu… They have become precious to me. They showed kindness to someone with nothing to give in return, and I want to show my gratitude by helping however I can.”

Ike finished reading, looking down at Marth staring determinedly back up at him. He glanced at Meta Knight, thinking that he’d seen the yellow eyes change to blue for a second, but turned his attention back to the prince. To Marth’s surprise, Ike’s expression softened and he looked almost sad. “You didn’t have to run away, you know. You could have talked to me. Didn’t I promise to protect you?”

Marth smiled gently. Both of them knew full well there was nothing Ike could do against the king.

“Well, that’s that, I guess.” Ike rubbed the back of his head, looking around at the others. “Sorry about earlier. No hard feelings?”

“What will you do now?” Meta Knight asked.

“I wanted the prince to come back with me. I’m staying at the beach, but if he’s happier here then I guess I can come visit. Well, if that’s OK with you guys.”

“As long as you keep your sword to yourself, we have no quarrel,” Meta Knight said.

Ike grinned. “We got off to a rough start. I was just pissed, you know?” He knelt and held out his hand, which Meta Knight took and shook with a strength that surprised Ike. “I’m really just here to look after the prince.”

“There will be no need for that,” Meta Knight said. “He is well protected here.”

A moment of tension passed between the two. The knight didn’t like the implication that he wasn’t capable of defending Marth, and he didn’t take kindly to anyone who doubted his power. Ike was loath to completely trust these people with the boy he’d grown up with, though. The swordsmen locked gazes, assessing each other, but then Ike smirked and stood up, his arms crossed again. “Good. Just don’t let him fool you – he may look sweet and innocent, but he’s really a brat.”

“Tch!” It was one of the few noises Marth could make without vocal chords.

“I’m managing to keep him in line.” Meta Knight’s eyes shone pink in amusement. “A little bit of proper discipline goes a long way.”

“You sound like my old man,” Ike said, grinning. Despite his misgivings, he was beginning to like the knight. “And don’t you start pouting,” he said to Marth. “You’re a spoiled brat and you know it.”

Ike returned to the beach that evening, and Marth was quite subdued as he followed Meta Knight back to their room. He was still afraid that Meta Knight would be angry with him, especially in light of his identity being revealed. He stood uncertainly by the door, until Meta Knight turned to look at him. “Aren’t you going to sit down?” he asked.

Marth took his seat beside Meta Knight’s chair, kneeling on the tatami mats in a compact bundle. Sword and Blade weren’t back from their patrol yet, so Meta Knight held off on turning on the TV. “You’re a prince, then.”

Marth nodded, still not meeting Meta Knight’s eyes. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. I’m not angry.” Marth looked up. “Why did you not tell me, though?”

“I did not want to reseev speshal treatment,” Marth wrote. “I howpd to leev the past behind me.”

“Seems that it came looking for you.”

The prince smiled, and wrote, “I was also afraid you would shun me. My pepol tell stories of how those on land hat and fear us.”

“It’s a trivial matter to me,” Meta Knight said. “I’ve seen many things in my time across the galaxy. Merfolk are not a strange concept to me. I had already suspected as much, anyway.”

Silence settled into the room as Marth picked lint off of his pants and Meta Knight tried to read his latest book. He kept glancing over at Marth, though. The prince had said he was precious to him. He’d said that about the others, of course, but Meta Knight felt somehow lighter at the realization that Marth thought so highly of him. “You’ve come to enjoy being here among us,” Meta Knight finally said, still scanning the pages in front of him. “I, too, have come to…” He trailed off, then tried again. Speaking so openly about his feelings was difficult. “You’ve become… important to me.”

His face burned under his mask, and Marth’s cheeks also lit up with an attractive dusting of pink. “I hope you can stay for a while longer,” Meta Knight continued, still not looking up.

Marth nodded. That settled it; he would stay. At least for now.


	10. An Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Marth tries to do something nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear there is a plot somewhere around here. I just love writing these little slice-of-life scenes! Forgive me! >_<

To Meta Knight’s irritation, Ike appeared in the courtyard the next morning. Marth ran to him and smiled, and Ike greeted him with an affectionate ruffling of his hair. “Morning, Prince,” he said. Meta Knight grunted to acknowledge the nod Ike gave him. He didn’t like how familiar the two were with each other, though he didn’t know why it bothered him.

“I’m surprised to see you here so early,” Meta Knight said.

“Just doing my job,” Ike said. “Besides, it’s been a while. We’ve got some catching up to do.”

“We have the morning rounds today,” Meta Knight said.

“Rounds?”

“The prince requested a job to help cover costs. He chose to work with us, to guard the castle.”

“Heh… OK, fine. I’ll be back later.”

Marth waved cheerfully as Ike retreated, and Meta Knight led him towards the outer wall. He made sure to keep him busy that day, sending him to study reading with Fumu as soon as they were done with their rounds. After that they had a sparring match, and it was only after lunch that Meta Knight allowed Marth to go take a bath – partially as a reward for diligently following orders all day.

He had other duties to attend to, so he didn’t stick around to keep an eye on Marth. King Dedede was in an uproar again, this time trying to improve the look of the castle. He hadn’t given Meta Knight any orders, but the star warrior was staying close in case Dedede called for any demon beasts.

“Escargon! Are the Waddle Dees at work yet?”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“What about my statue?”

“Almost finished, Sire.”

Meta Knight hadn’t been insolent enough to roll his eyes in centuries, but he was close to doing so now.

As he drifted into contemplation, filtering the conversation for any indication of Holy Nightmare Company, Sword and Blade came running from down the hall.

“Sir! There’s an intruder!”

“Where?” Meta Knight’s hand found Galaxia’s hilt instantly.

“In the lower section. It was the man you described last night – that Ike person,” Blade said.

“We tried to stop him, but he’s much stronger than we thought. He sent us flying, and then disappeared…”

There were a few choice words Meta Knight had learned from various locations across the galaxy, and he muttered them now as he ran with Sword and Blade in tow. He didn’t know what kind of mischief the merman was up to, but he wasn’t about to let him see it through.

As the three branched off in search of the trespasser, Meta Knight wondered why he would suddenly come in uninvited – and why he would avoid Sword and Blade. He had to be here for Marth, he realized, spinning on his heel and making for his quarters. Perhaps Ike really was working for the Altean king, after all. Perhaps he was going to bring the prince back by force.

Meta Knight reached the door to the bath, and halted. Without him around to limit his indulgences, Marth was sure to still be in there. If Ike found him like this, without a sword to defend himself… His eyes flashing red, he pushed open the door and crept inside quietly. He could hear voices. Galaxia at the ready, he drew closer to the door to the shower area.

He nearly dropped his sword when he saw Ike and Marth under the spray together. The fearsome intruder, the man who had stormed the castle with such little effort, was sitting back with a contented look on his face as Marth shampooed his hair. The prince noticed Meta Knight in the doorway and waved, beckoning him with a cheerful smile.

“What are you doing here?” Meta Knight asked, stepping into the room.

“I came to see the prince,” Ike said without opening his eyes. “Ah… You land-dwellers really know how to live, you know? We don’t have anything like this back home.”

It was too surreal. Ike was making himself right at home. “Who invited you?” he asked.

“Huh? Invited me? You guys said I could come visit.” He finally did open his eyes, but remained infuriatingly relaxed.

“Why did you engage my squires?”

“Those two guards? They attacked me, so I defended myself. I have a right to be here.”

Meta Knight growled, stepping closer, his grip still firm on Galaxia’s handle. “You have a right to be here?”

Marth rinsed off his hands and held them up placatingly. “You asked the prince to be your guest, right? I’m his bodyguard. I told you that. So, wherever he is, I can be if he says so.”

Marth sighed, shaking his head. Perhaps it would be better to simply dismiss Ike. Meta Knight was looking at him almost murderously. Then all the anger seemed to drain from him. He sheathed his sword. “Your presence here is for him to decide. Your Highness,” he nodded, then left them to their bath.

Marth got to his feet and ran after Meta Knight, who had to catch him as he slipped again. “What is it?” Meta Knight asked, trying to look anywhere but at the naked boy kneeling in front of him. Marth put a hand on his shoulder, attempting to convey how sorry he was to be such a burden. Then he realized he didn’t have his notepad on him. He gripped the edge of Meta Knight’s cape, bowing his head apologetically.

“No need for that…” he sighed. As Marth looked up, his hair wet and his eyes shining, Meta Knight felt something he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. He pulled away, spun around, and fled from the bathroom. He needed to go train, or meditate, or dunk his head in a bucket of cold water.

Marth’s hand was still extended as the door closed behind the knight. His hand fell back to clench over his heart. He thought Meta Knight must be very angry with him now, to have run off like that. He had allowed Ike to barge into someone else’s domain. This castle wasn’t his, and he didn’t expect anyone to treat him like royalty while he was here. He had renounced his royal blood the second he had agreed to the spell.

He turned to glare at Ike. This was partially his fault, too.

“Everything alright?” Ike asked, reaching over to turn off the water but only succeeding in making it hotter. He yelped and jumped away, knocking the stool aside. Marth stood and grabbed a towel, drying himself off before touching his notepad (he had learned the hard way that paper and water didn’t mix). “Sir Meta Knight is angry with me,” he wrote.

“Why?” Ike asked.

“You shouldn’t have done that to Sword and Blade!” The notepad was shoved closer to Ike’s face to get the point across. “They were defending the castle, and I never said you could just come in whenever you feel like it! The rules here are different than in Altea.”

“Why would he be mad at you for what I did?”

“He’s angry because I didn’t make you respect the boundaries here.” Marth sighed, scribbling another note. “I don’t know what to do…”

“Don’t feel so bad,” Ike said. “I was the one who caused it.”

“I am responsible for you.”

“So apologize.”

Marth sighed again, writing, “How? He would not even look at me.”

“Talk is cheap, Your Highness. Why not try doing something nice for him?”

The prince thought that was a fine idea, but didn’t have any clue as to what to do for Meta Knight. He couldn’t think of anything that the knight wanted as a present. His quarters were already kept spotless, so cleaning them wouldn’t make a difference. Then Marth remembered something Blade had said before: Meta Knight didn’t often indulge in anything pleasurable, but one of his favorite foods was curry.

“I have an idea,” Marth wrote. “Sir Meta Knight likes curry. I could make some for him.”

Ike chewed absent-mindedly on the dangling end of his headband. “Huh. OK, but what’s curry?”

“It’s a food. Very delicious, but I’ve never made it before. I’m going to have to commandeer the kitchen.”

“Can’t you just ask the servants to make some?”

“I want to make it myself,” Marth wrote. “To put the effort into creating something with my own hands conveys more feeling.”

“Alright, then I’ll help you. Just tell me what to do!”

Operation: Curry began at precisely 15:00 hours (though Marth and Ike had no way of knowing this). Ike had been reluctant to leave the shower, but Marth promised him something to eat. When they entered the kitchen, Marth wrote down a message for the Waddle Dees, which Ike delivered sternly: “We need to use this place for a while. You lot can clear off.”

Marth nudged him. He had actually written, “Please excuse us for a while.” The Waddle Dees looked at one another, shrugging. Dinner wasn’t for a while yet, so they had nothing better to do. They grouped together at the large round table that served as their meal area, and brought out the pack of cards. Marth had Ike thank them as the two mermen approached the counter.

The prince reached for the large red book on the lectern, flipping through the pages slowly. The pictures were little help, as he had only tried curry once since coming here. He read the title of each page, until he came to the right one. “You can read that gibberish?” Ike asked. Marth nodded proudly. It was just one of the things Meta Knight had helped him with, and he was determined to pour all of his gratitude into this dish.

He began to transcribe the recipe into his own script, allowing Ike to read it as well. “Chili, onions, potatoes… What are those things? Everything on this list is something I’ve never even heard of!”

Marth went looking for each item, asking Ike to read them off for him. Soon he had everything he needed, and he rolled up his sleeves, grabbing an apron from the peg by the oven. It was only big enough to be tied around his waist, serving as a half-apron, but he figured it would do. While he began filling a pot with water for the rice, Ike was sniffing the ingredients.

“Weird… Hey, Marth, anything you need me to do?”

Marth scanned his translated recipe and pointed to step 3, “Chop meat into small squares.” Ike nodded. He could do that.

><><>< 

Meta Knight took a deep breath, the wind stirring the edges of his cape. He felt much better now, though that had been a very close call. It had been probably a hundred years or more since he’d felt aroused like that (after a while he’d lost track), and it had caught him off-guard. Now that he thought about it, he was worried that he had given Marth the wrong impression. Perhaps the prince had been insulted by his hasty retreat.

He was thinking of going back and apologizing when he heard the sound of heavy boots falling on the stone. He turned to see Ike coming towards him. “I’ve been looking for you,” Ike called across the parapet.

“What do you want?” Meta Knight asked.

“Uh, I wanted to apologize,” Ike said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, about coming here without being asked or anything. Marth didn’t know I’d done that to those two. He chewed me out good for it, so…”

Meta Knight regarded the younger swordsman with a critical eye. He was brash, but there was an apparent goodness about him. Meta Knight knew his type well. Ike wanted to prove himself, to make his mark, but not for fortune or bragging rights. He seemed to genuinely want to make a difference in the world. “I accept your apology,” the knight said finally. He took the hand extended to him, shaking it firmly but not intending to crush Ike’s fingers this time.

“Good. You, uh, seem pretty important to the prince, so I didn’t want there to be any hard feelings between us. If he likes you so much, you must be a great guy.”

The knight remained silent, not sure how to respond to this.

“So, are you doing anything later?”

Meta Knight eyed Ike warily. “Why?”

“The prince wanted to see you.”

“Did he?”

“Not that he’s trying to summon you or anything,” Ike said, his hands up. “He respects you a lot. I’ve never seen him lower himself to anyone before, even to his father. He just had something to give you.”

Now Meta Knight was intrigued. “Something to give me?”

“Yeah, but it’s supposed to be a surprise. I’m not telling you what it is.”

The knight’s eyes turned pink momentarily. Nobody had ever planned a surprise for him before. He wondered what in the world Marth would be giving him.

Such warm and happy thoughts fled swiftly when he saw Sword and Blade running towards him. How much bad news could they deliver in a day? “Sir, uh… There’s been an incident in the kitchen…”

“Dammit! I’ve only been gone a few minutes!” Ike swore, and the others looked at him in puzzlement. “Uh… I’ll go take care of it. Don’t worry.”

“Is it the prince?” Meta Knight asked.

“I don’t know,” Sword said. “We were on our way to your room when we saw the Waddle Dees fleeing. We saw smoke, but when we went to investigate…”

“It was like a fierce demon was guarding the entrance,” Blade said. “The door was shut in our faces, and no matter how hard we pushed it would not open. The deadbolt must be in.”

“Nothing to worry about!” Ike suddenly dashed off, shouting over his shoulder. “I’ll fix it!”

Meta Knight, Sword, and Blade followed at a run, but Ike’s legs were longer. When they reached the service hallway, Ike was already banging on the door while thick smoke wafted from under it. “Open up, NOW!” he bellowed. “You’d better open this door, or I swear by Poseidon…!”

“Stand back!” Meta Knight rushed forward, his sword raised. The door was no match for him, and it fell, chopped into pieces. He ran through the smoke to find a scene of chaos. Marth was frantically fanning the oven with an apron, scattering smoke everywhere while a pot of something boiled over behind him. It appeared that whatever had been on fire was now extinguished, but the acrid smell of burned flour hung heavily in the air. The arrhythmic gasping noises Meta Knight thought to be the water on the stove turned out to be Marth coughing.

Besides the smoke, there was physical damage to the countertops. There appeared to be large gashes in the wood, with deep gouges where chunks were missing altogether. The remains of what looked like several cutting boards lay in a pile on the counter, with bits of meat clinging to them. Meta Knight could only gawk as Ike pushed past him, going over to help Marth fan the smoke away.

Meta Knight walked over and took Marth’s arm firmly in his hand. He pulled the prince away, not caring that he’d surprised the boy. Ike followed them, a coughing fit taking hold of him. Sword and Blade came forward to open the air vents while Meta Knight led Marth and Ike away from the smoke. Marth’s back hit the wall and he slid down, bunching his knees up to his chest as he wheezed silently.

“Look at me,” Meta Knight commanded, and Marth’s eyes slowly rose to meet his. “Why did you close the door?”

The prince felt around for the satchel he wore, finding the notepad inside. “I did not want any one to see,” he wrote.

“You wanted to clean that up yourself?”

Marth nodded.

“You may have a basic understanding that water quenches fire, but smoke can be just as dangerous as flame,” Meta Knight said. His voice was low, and Marth couldn’t quite tell what he was feeling. Was he angry? Annoyed? “When that happens, leave the room. Understand?”

The prince nodded again.

“Now, what happened?”

“I was trying to make curry,” Marth wrote. “I wanted to supris you.”

“To be fair, the cuts were my fault,” Ike said. “He asked me to chop the meat, but I got a little carried away… I didn’t know there were knives specifically for cutting food.”

“What did you use, then?” Meta Knight almost didn’t want to know.

“My sword,” Ike grinned sheepishly. “It did a little too good a job...”

Meta Knight didn’t know whether to be angry or amused. He could just imagine those two trying to figure out how to cook with equipment they’d never seen before, using techniques they had to piece together themselves and making a spectacular mess as they went. He very nearly let out a chuckle. Marth didn’t seem so tickled, though. He tugged on Meta Knight’s cape, holding up the notepad.

“I am so sory. I wanted to make curry for you to apolojaise for evrything. I was going to make a cake as well for Sword and Blade becaus Ike fot with them before. I feel responsibal for that.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Meta Knight said. “Next time, perhaps you could do something that more closely matches your skill level… I’m grateful, but I don’t want you to get hurt.” To Marth’s surprise, Meta Knight reached out to caress his cheek. Meta Knight seemed to realize what he was doing, though, and pulled away as if he’d put his hand into a fire.

Sword and Blade returned, the Waddle Dees filing into the kitchen behind them as they began to clean up the mess. Marth stood and walked over to join them, brushing off Ike’s attempt to call him back. “I may as well help out, too,” Ike sighed, following him.

“What on Popstar was he doing in there?” Sword asked.

“He was trying to cook us a meal,” Meta Knight said.

“He was?” Sword and Blade exchanged glances. “Do they even cook where he’s from?”

Meta Knight watched as several Waddle Dees brought out the ruined cutting boards. “I would guess not.”

Cleaning and repairing the kitchen was short work with so many hands, but once it was over the Waddle Dees made haste in shooing Marth and Ike away. “They won’t be too eager to cook anything for us for a while…” Blade said.

“Then let’s go out to eat for now,” Meta Knight said.

Marth shook his head. He didn’t deserve a night out after causing this much trouble. “Don’t feel bad,” Sword said. “You were trying to do something nice for us. We appreciate it.”

The prince smiled just a little. Then he perked up, reaching into his satchel. He held up his money pouch, jangling the coins. “You want to treat us to dinner?” Meta Knight guessed. Marth nodded. “Alright. We’ll gladly accept.”

“What’s ‘going out to eat’?” Ike asked. Marth pocketed his money and led them down the hall. He would have to introduce Ike to sushi.


	11. Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Marth finds a way to express himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the tone of this story is swinging back and forth, and I'm probably not doing a very good job of either side, but at this point I'm just kinda writing without planning. I know the main points of the story, but as far as the filler? I'm having fun with it. Here's another chapter that's more on the emotional side, with some silliness here and there. Like I said, I'm really not very good with long stories... Hopefully I'll get better as I go along!

A new sight greeted Marth when he went on patrol one day. An area just outside the village had been roped off, and tents were being put up. He could see their colorful stripes even from the castle. He stopped to stare, tapping Blade’s shoulder and pointing towards the spectacle.

“They’re getting ready for the annual Music Festival,” Blade said.

Marth was immediately interested. Music was an important part of life in the sea. He had yet to experience the musical culture up here, and he was eager to find out what kinds of things the land-dwellers did for music. He wrote, “Can we go.” In his haste, he forgot how to make a question mark.

“Sure. I don’t see why not,” Sword said. “We usually only watch from a distance, in case there’s trouble, but…” he glanced at Blade, who nodded. They might be able to convince Meta Knight to let them attend, using Marth as an excuse. Meta Knight had never openly opposed their participation in such events, but they always got the impression that he thought it foolish and a waste of time.

Marth was so excited that he almost forgot about his duties. He ran off to find Meta Knight, only to come trudging back sheepishly as Sword and Blade looked on.

The prince had never looked forward to anything as much as he looked forward to the Music Festival. When it finally arrived, he could hardly wait to go. Wait he did, though, as Meta Knight and the others got ready. “I assume you told Ike of this?” Meta Knight asked, coming out of the bedroom. Marth nodded an affirmative. “Very well. We’ll pick him up on the way. Before that, though…” He drew a flat box out of his cape and handed it to Marth.

Marth examined it, and smiled uncomprehendingly. “It’s a present,” Meta Knight said. “Open it.”

Curious, Marth opened the box and found an expanse of blue inside. He pulled it out, and watched as it unfurled to reveal a long robe-like garment. The lower half was embroidered with a pattern of silver scales that caught the light, and Marth stood for a moment admiring it. “This is traditional festival garb of Pupupu Village, called a yukata,” Meta Knight explained. “You’ll fit in better wearing that.”

Even if he’d been able to speak, Marth wouldn’t have known what to say. He put the yukata back in the box and knelt so he could embrace Meta Knight, who stiffly wrapped an arm around his waist. “I’ll show you how to put it on,” Meta Knight said, pulling away quickly. Sword and Blade were in the other room. He helped Marth put on the white underrobe, allowed Marth to put on the yukata himself, and tied the green sash for him.

Surrounded by deepest blue and shimmering silver, Marth looked very… Meta Knight blushed. He wanted to say “beautiful”, but thought that would sound too forward. Finally, he settled on, “It looks good on you.” Sword and Blade soon emerged in their best armor, and both commented on the yukata while Marth beamed and spun around to model it for them.

“The scales are a little tongue-in-cheek,” Blade muttered to sword as the four of them left the castle.

“What was that?” Meta Knight turned to glare at them, and they both straightened up and looked away, mumbling apologies.

Ike was already waiting for them at the end of the drawbridge. He was leaning against the gatepost with his arms crossed, still dressed in the worn clothes he’d come ashore in. “Wow,” he said upon seeing Marth. “Not bad! These land-dwellers’ clothes agree with you.”

Marth’s face glowed as he walked ahead of the group. Meta Knight stayed close to him, but was outpaced by Ike, who flanked the prince like a dog. He wondered just how much of this interest was loyalty to a friend, and how much might be something else – Meta Knight couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that flared in him when he saw the two together. They were obviously very close.

By the time they arrived, the festival was just picking up. It was only late afternoon, and many of the dances and concerts wouldn’t start until evening. The five swordsmen had time to wander around and take in the sights. This was a good thing, because Ike and Marth wanted to explore everything.

“What’s that?” Ike asked, pointing to a small food cart.

“They’re going to sell okonomiyaki,” Meta Knight answered. “It looks as if they’re just setting up.

“Okomawhat?”

“It’s a kind of food,” Meta Knight said patiently.

“Okonomeeakee,” Marth wrote, and made a note to try some later.

“Hey, what’s this?” Ike ran over to a stall with a small trough of water in front of it. Marth followed, smiling and bowing to Kawasaki, who was sitting behind the trough and fanning himself with a bright paper fan.

“Welcome!” Kawasaki said. “Care to try your luck? Only ten deden for ten tries!”

“Tries at what?” Ike peered into the tub. Inside was a variety of small fish, mostly gold or white in color.

“It’s the paddle game,” Kawasaki explained, holding up a small paper-thin paddle on a plastic frame. “You try to use this to scoop a fish into a cup. You get to keep whichever fish you catch!”

Marth glanced at Ike, who grinned. “Sounds easy enough,” he said. He had harpooned fish bigger than himself; this couldn’t be much of a challenge. The prince paid two copper coins for both of them, and they were given paddles and cups. Meta Knight, Sword, and Blade gathered around to watch.

Ike took one end of the tub, while Marth took the other. The guard knelt by the trough, dipped the cup in the water, and began fishing. Soon his ten tries were used up, with nothing resulting from it. “Dammit… Can I do it again?”

Marth paid another ten deden, and Ike went back to work. “Kawasaki’s going to make a lot of money today,” Blade said, and Sword nodded.

“Shit! That was so close!” Another coin was handed over, and ten more tries were wasted. Ike threw the paddle aside and stood up, irritated. “This game’s impossible… Let’s go, Marth.”

Marth did stand up, but with a bowl full of fish. He was smiling triumphantly. “How’d you get so many?” Ike wondered, but Marth just handed the bowl to Ike. “Heh, OK, you did good. I’m impressed.”

“Come again!” Kawasaki waved to them as they left for another attraction. Ike was carrying a plastic bag with the fish Marth had caught.

“How am I supposed to eat these without spilling the water?”

“E- er, you’re not supposed to eat them,” Sword said. “They’re pets!”

“Oh…” Ike frowned at the bag, seemingly disappointed. He stepped aside so he could intercept a passing cappy child as she went on her way, and handed her the bag, ignoring her startled exclamation. “You take ‘em. I have no need for them.” She stared at him, mouth hanging open, as he rejoined his group.

Marth was enjoying the sights, but he really wanted to hear some music. He wrote something and showed it to Meta Knight.

“The schedule says the first concert should be in half an hour,” Meta Knight said. “Until then, we can find something to eat.”

More and more food vendors were opening, and Marth had trouble deciding what to try first. Everything smelled so good. “Look, they have corn dogs,” Sword pointed out.

“And soba,” Blade said.

Marth couldn’t choose, so he bought both. He and Ike each had a corn dog on a stick as they waited for their noodles to cook. “Food up here is so weird,” Ike said, peeling the cornmeal breading off with his fingers. “OK, I’m eating,” Ike said, noticing the prince frowning at him disapprovingly.

After the food came music, and Marth was finally able to hear the land-dwellers’ songs. The first concert was announced, and the five swordsmen followed the crowd to a large pavilion. Meta Knight purchased a large red blanket from a vendor outside, and they all sat on it in a sunny patch of grass behind the folding chairs near the stage.

When the music started, Marth took some time to watch each performer and to learn the sound their instrument made. This was an assembly of cappies forming an orchestra that played a medley of various songs. As the music began to swell, Marth closed his eyes to thoroughly experience it. He saw great battles being fought, wars being won, families reuniting in peaceful times after. He could hear the hope and despair of the people who had created this music, and the images they conjured in his mind formed an ever-changing landscape. He could hear the history of this land, all through the music.

As he focused on each instrument, he began to hear the minds of the players. The piping flutist was in a jovial mood, as was the guitarist. One of the players on drums was having a frustrating day. Someone on violin had just suffered a loss.

He opened his eyes and glanced at Ike. His bodyguard seemed as spellbound as he was. Ike was staring at the stage with wonder in his eyes, and it seemed that he too could hear the unspoken emotions behind the songs. He could also sense the moods of the performers. Marth’s gaze wandered to Sword and Blade, who seemed to be enjoying themselves. He wondered if they could hear what he and Ike heard.

Then he caught Meta Knight’s eye. The knight wasn’t looking at the performers; he was looking at Marth. The prince felt his face grow hotter, but he smiled all the same. Suddenly a melancholy took hold of Marth, and he had to look back at the stage to focus on the music again. He found himself wishing he hadn’t lost his voice. He would be able to sing for Meta Knight. Would the knight be able to understand his song? Perhaps even a land-dweller might understand his feelings, if he were to sing them with all his heart. Like this, though, he would never be able to express how he felt with any amount of eloquence.

The music ended. The audience applauded, and Marth found himself clapping along with more enthusiasm than he felt. He wanted to sing again. He wanted to jump onto the stage and add his voice to the instruments, finding some way to harmonize his song with this strange and wonderful music.

Meta Knight seemed to sense Marth’s mood. “Come,” he helped the prince stand as Sword folded up the blanket. “There’s a dancing demonstration in the next tent.”

Marth nodded, and followed Meta Knight to the blue and white tent next door. The dancing had already started, with various cappies lining up to join the class.

“Today we’ll be going over various traditional dance steps, as well as some new ones!”

“Are you going to try it?” Meta Knight asked, and Marth nodded. Ike joined him in line, next to Fumu, Bun, and Kirby.

The dancing demonstration did a lot to boost Marth’s spirits, even though he and Ike were easily the worst students in the class. They stumbled their way through some old traditional dances, the foxtrot, a waltz, and a two-step. Both were completely oblivious to the wide clearing around them, as other dancers tried to avoid their clumsy movements. Having been on land for over a month, Marth was better than Ike, but only slightly.

“I thought he looked so graceful in that yukata… until I saw him dance…” Fumu mumbled as she stepped back for a breather with Kirby. “I guess it is true, then. They’re both really mermen!” It was now obvious, knowing what they knew, that neither of the blue-haired young men had ever done anything close to dancing before.

Meta Knight only nodded. It was amusing to watch, at least.

When the dancing was over, there was some time to browse before the next performance. Souvenir vendors had begun to open up, and Marth had fun looking at all the different things. Bells, lucky charms, bracelets and necklaces, glowing sticks that bent into all kinds of shapes – to most people it was the usual assortment of cheap knickknacks, but to Marth and Ike it was a treasure trove of new and interesting things. Marth bought a blue glowing wand for himself and a leather key fob for Ike, which he tied to the end of his headband (much to Sword and Blade’s amusement).

Marth was on the lookout for something he could get Meta Knight. There were many things that he thought looked fine, but one thing in particular caught his attention – a small conch shell crafted into a flute of some kind. It gleamed with a multitude of colors in the light of the sunset, and Marth was instantly smitten. He couldn’t resist buying it, and tucked it safely into his yukata.

Another concert was scheduled soon, and Marth followed Meta Knight and the others to the red and yellow pavilion from before. This time, the stage was cleared of seats. As the five sat down on their blanket again, Sword said, “Come to think of it, this festival has been surprisingly peaceful. Where is His Majesty?”

“The king has been on vacation this week,” Meta Knight said.

“You guys seriously didn’t know that your king left town?” Ike gaped at them.

“It’s not our place to speak ill of our king, but…” Blade mumbled.

“He’s an idiot,” Sword said. “We try not to interact with him much.”

“Heh. We’d never speak about our king that way,” Ike said.

Marth huffed and held up his notepad. “Perhaps YOU hav never done so.”

“What’s that say?” Ike asked, and Blade translated for him. “Tch. You’ve never spoken a word against him in your life, prince. Not to his face, anyway.”

Marth blushed furiously, looking down at his lap. Thankfully, the music started and interrupted the discussion.

This was a choral performance, and it was very enjoyable to Marth and Ike. They could more clearly hear the meaning behind the voices. But still, that sorrow came over Marth as he thought of his own voice. If he ever gained it again, he wasn’t sure he could sing for Meta Knight. His father would keep him under lock and key for sure.

An idea struck him then. The flute! He pulled it out and examined it, the concert forgotten. If he could learn to play the flute, he could perhaps put his feelings into a song.

After the choir performance, Marth took off to another tent with a schedule in his hand. Ike rushed to follow him. “I wonder where they’re going so suddenly?” Blade asked.

Meta Knight didn’t have any clue. He followed at a distance, and then consulted the program. “They’re heading for the instrument lessons,” he said. “There’s a demonstration for guitar, flute, and drums.”

The three knights went in search of a drink cart, and soon Ike came walking towards them. “I don’t know what’s up with the prince tonight,” he said, glancing back at the pavilions. “He just shooed me away! I’ve been shooed!”

“That’s rough,” Sword said. “How about a beer?”

“Beer? What’s beer?”

><><>< 

Marth returned from the music lesson with a bounce in his step, punctuated by only an occasional misstep. He found Sword, Blade, Meta Knight, and Ike sitting among others at a bar set up near the end of the row of food carts. He ran up to them, smiling, but halted when Ike fell off his stool.

“Hahaha! That was great!” the indigo-haired swordsman said, looking up at the stars. In his view, there seemed to be many more of them than usual.

Sword and Blade hopped off their seats to help Ike up, and Marth rushed to his side. “He’s alright, Your Highness,” Meta Knight said. “He’s just discovered beer. It appears as if your people have very little tolerance of it…”

“Tastes like piss, but it’s great,” Ike said with a bit of a slur, and then he leaned toward Marth. “Heya, Princess, you gotta try this stuff!”

Sword and Blade balked, but Marth only sighed. “Don’t call me that in front of them,” he wrote in their language.

“Psh. What, you gotta act all prissy?” Ike hiccuped, almost losing his balance again. “Hey, ‘m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you mad. See, we used t’ call ‘im Princess. Cuz he used to look jus’ like a girl.”

Marth frowned, his eyebrow twitching. Then he looked accusingly at Sword and Blade. What had they done to his bodyguard?

“Tha’s not really fair, though,” Ike said, taking another gulp of foamy liquid. It didn’t seem to matter to him that the glass was practically empty, or that it belonged to Meta Knight. “I call ‘im that for fun sometimes, but I don’ mean anything by it. But some people say, just ‘cuz he likes guys…”

Ike found himself dragged by the ear towards the end of the thoroughfare. “Heeeey!” he whined, but Marth succeeded in guiding him away from the others. Sword, Blade, and Meta Knight didn’t see what happened after that, as the two stepped out of the light, but when they returned Ike was sporting a red hand-print on his cheek. He also seemed to be a little soberer. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he sat back on the stool.

“Rule number one,” Marth wrote in Altean. “No beer.”

><><>< 

The festival was over. Despite Ike’s run-in with alcohol, it had been a huge success. “Chief Borun told me that they began planning the festival to coincide with King Dedede’s annual vacation,” Sword commented. He, Blade, and Meta Knight had returned to their room. Ike had been brought to the bedroom and laid on a futon next to Marth’s; he was now sleeping off his intoxication. Marth had departed again shortly after their return.

“At least they’re beginning to catch on,” Meta Knight said. “You two go ahead and rest. I’ll take the night patrol myself.”

“Yes, Sir,” they both said, and Meta Knight left the room.

He hadn’t been able to get Marth off of his mind all night. Seeing the way the prince had enjoyed the music, watching his clumsy dancing, even seeing his face alight with joy at the cheap trinkets at the merchant stalls… Meta Knight wished he had spent more time with Marth, and even found himself wondering if he could one day invite the prince somewhere without Ike and Sword and Blade. It had been fun to attend the festival with them, but a small part of him had wanted to spend time alone with Marth.

As he walked along the castle wall, a sound drew his attention upward. A lone figure was standing under the moon, perched atop one of the watchtowers. A soft melody filled the air, instilling a sense of calm all around. With a sudden skip of his heartbeat, Meta Knight recognized the song. It had haunted his dreams for weeks, and had kept him conscious as he’d been carried through the water to safety one cloudy day.

Marth lowered the flute as Meta Knight approached. “Your Highness…” the knight murmured. “Please, don’t stop playing.”

The prince’s heart swelled with joy. He nodded, and began playing again – a different song this time. He played out his longing and his sorrow. He expressed his gratitude, his uncertainty, and his appreciation. Occasionally glancing at Meta Knight, he couldn’t tell if his message was getting through. He played on, though, putting as much of his own voice into the song as he could.

The knight only listened, captivated. He could not detect the emotions as plainly as a merman could, but his heart thrummed along with the melody. He could feel sorrow, frustration, joy, and – running beneath it all as an ever-present current – deep affection that was beginning to grow into something more.


End file.
